Clockwork
by ThisPerson1
Summary: When the gears are set in motion. The story behind Allen Hale's hatred of George Maxwell and how his actions affect others and spawn the events of the game. Revenge is such a silly thing. Swearing and some violence, but not till later on.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I know this isn't the most popular game especially for fanfics, but I thought I'd give this idea a shot for two reasons. One, there isn't really much that covers this. Two, I wanted to try my hand at a contest. I also think the game's story is actually pretty interesting. For fans of the game, fans of the story in it, or just people who're reading this out of curiosity, I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

George Maxwell had everything. Money, power, intelligence, and a high position. It wasn't just any position, however. It was supposed to be _his_ position. _He_ was supposed to become the lead scientist, not Maxwell. He was among Memorial's best-no, he _was_ the best. Nobody could outdo any of his research. Until that uppity bastard showed up and snatched the rug out from under him. Where he faltered in his research Maxwell continued on, where he failed Maxwell succeeded, and where he aimed Maxwell shot. And he didn't miss.

Allen Hale and Philip Tate were two of the best technicians at Memorial Pharmaceuticals Research Lab. Heck, Tate was the Lab Director. The two of them were the greatest minds the place had ever seen. Their research saved lives and people-hospital patients and scientists alike-practically begged for the duo's work to assist them in their troubles. They were seen as heroes. Then one day Maxwell appeared. Allen remembered it quite clearly. The day that disgusting excuse for a man came into his life was forever etched into his memory.

He and Philip had been studying some new form of bacteria that seemed to cause some sort of mental illness. Currently, they were exchanging notes to see if they could come up with anything that could neutralize its effects. As they were discussing some possibilities a fellow technician came in and told them the news.

"Did ya hear? There's some new guy here. He's supposed to be some sort of science genius. Apparently he thinks he's capable of doing the work of at least five of us." Allen scoffed. What arrogance for a rookie. Who did this man think he was?

"Is he really that good, Mark?" He looked at Philip. Surely he didn't believe any of this nonsense.

"Oh, come on. You don't really think that's true, do you?" Allen asked snidely. Philip looked at Allen with surprise.

"Well... I suppose it is a bit far-fetched," he said, still taken aback by his friend's tone.

"Of course it is! Honestly, who would be capable of such a thing?"

"George Maxwell thinks he is," Mark replied. "I saw a glimpse of his work and as much as I hate to say it, you two had better watch out." Allen merely rolled his eyes. Mark shrugged. "Suit yourself. But don't say I didn't warn you."

"Are you suggesting that some _rookie_ could possibly surpass Philip's and my work?" Allen set down the papers and turned to face Mark with a stern expression. Philip, deciding to play the mediator, stepped in before any problems arose.

"Calm down, Allen. There's no need to get so angry over this. If this guy's really as good as he says he is then it's best we continue with our work and stay ahead. After all, we've got years of experience under our belts. Mark," he said, facing him now. "I think it's best if you just focus on your work." The implied 'Get Lost' worked as the scientist huffed and left the room.

"George Maxwell, honestly," Allen grumbled.

"What was that?"

"Don't you know who that man is?"

"Maxwell...? Now that I think, it sounds very familiar. He isn't-"

"A member of the noble Maxwell Family? Yes, he is. But what he's doing here is beyond me." Allen stared down at the notes in front of him. They weren't anything groundbreaking but he and Philip would likely be able to create something useful out of them in due time.

"Don't tell me you're worried." When Allen didn't respond Philip placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a small shake. "Maxwell's family isn't known for scientists. There's no need to worry. We've created so many great things ranging from antibiotics to cures for previously unknown diseases. But why am telling you this? You already know."

"You're right." Allen patted his friend on the back before putting the notes back together. "Maxwell's not going to be a problem. Not at all." Just to be safe though, he and Philip made certain that those notes were never seen by another person other than themselves. He didn't consider Maxwell a threat, at least not at first, but he wasn't taking any chances. And he found out the hard way how wrong he was.

It all started with a little curiosity. Three days after Maxwell was brought in everyone was talking about his work.

"This guy's brilliant!"

"He's much better than Allen."

"Better watch out, Hale. Maxwell's got a lot more skill than you."

Allen Hale, who was sick and tired of all this 'false' praise, decided to see for himself how great this man was. So he secretly waited outside Maxwell's own lab until he left. Once the other man had rounded the corner at the end of the hall he went inside and began searching. His first stop was the small stack of notes left on the table. As he skimmed through them he had to admit: Maxwell was much more intelligent than he had thought. He was already on the verge of creating several new vaccines that would be much more effective than his. However, this couldn't be all. Allen had the feeling that this wasn't the only thing George Maxwell was working on. When he first saw the man he had a bad feeling about him. He had heard rumors about the Maxwell Family dabbling in black magic and the occult. And then there was the supposed 'Maxwell Curse' that everyone had been talking about for a while. Allen wasn't certain if any of this was true and didn't really want to find out, but he had the slightest hunch that Maxwell may very well be scheming something. It was this hunch that prompted him to dig deeper. He looked through every drawer and file he could get his hands on and hadn't found anything of interest so far. His search had yielded nothing but undeniable proof that the other man was truly a science genius. That is, until he came across Maxwell's satchel deliberately buried under his coat and balled up papers. Allen quickly grabbed it and started rummaging through it as fast as he could. He had no clue how much time he had until he was found, so he hurried.

And then he froze completely. In his bag, Maxwell kept some of the most disturbing research he had ever seen. "Cerebral Toxin..." he muttered. "What in the world..." Maxwell appeared to be interested in creating some sort of parasitic bacteria but his reasons were completely unknown to him. The notes listed information on previously failed experiments. What really rattled him though, was that the data was from human subjects. _Humans._ All Allen could think about was telling the other scientists.

"Care to explain what you're doing?" He whirled around to see none other than Maxwell himself.

"Care to explain what _you're_ doing?" he responded. Maxwell quirked a brow.

"What I'm doing," he said, "is questioning why you're in _my_ lab, snooping through _my_ research. You aren't trying to steal anything, are you?" Maxwell's tone was condescending and snide until he noticed the papers still in Allen's hands. "What have you done?" He snatched the papers from him and shoved them back into his satchel.

"I haven't-I mean, what have you done? What is that?" Now that his shock had worn off he was becoming increasingly angry.

"It's none of your concern. Now," he said, facing Allen, "I think you should leave." Maxwell's intense glare was practically willing the senior scientist out of the room. However, he had no intentions of going anywhere.

"You expect me to just turn a blind eye to this?" He was almost fuming now. How could he possibly ignore this? For all he knew, the man was planning to kill them all.

"I expect you to keep your mouth shut, like the intelligent man you are. Now if you would be so kind as to leave." He gestured to the door and Allen complied. He had no other choice but to do so. He couldn't tell anyone about his discovery without proof or they'd just say he was jealous and spreading rumors. If he got in a struggle with Maxwell to steal the papers it was likely that it wouldn't end well. So he did the only thing he could and left. When he reached the door he stopped and turned to face the other scientist.

"I hope you know that whatever you're trying to get away with won't work. I'll make certain it doesn't." The response he received was a chuckle and a small nod of mock acknowledgement. As he walked down the corridor he suddenly felt frightened of what that man may have been capable of. He really should have stolen some of those notes while he had had the chance, as Maxwell made sure he never left any personal belongings lying around ever again.

Within the week Allen Hale had been all but ousted from his position. Maxwell's research was far better than his and Philip's. It was like nothing any of them had ever seen. The advancements made in Memorial's data and medicine were all because of him. People were no longer looking to Allen Hale and Philip Tate, they were asking George Maxwell. Philip, being the Lab Director, was reasonably safe from losing his job. But Allen? He was screwed. He had sealed his fate after his first encounter with Maxwell and his secret research. He'd first went to tell Philip about what he'd found a couple days after it occurred.

"Are you telling me the truth, Al?" Philip Tate was sitting at his desk sorting through some paperwork when Allen had come in rambling about some hidden research Maxwell was secretly conducting.

"Of course I am. Why would I lie?"

"Well, it just seems so-I don't know-strange. Are you sure you didn't make a mistake? You could've just misread it."

"I know what I saw, Philip. Maxwell's up to no good."

"What do you think it is, then?"

"How should I know? I'm a scientist, not a psychic."

"Well, if you're so sure about this then maybe you should try to find some proof. Why don't you just take it to the police?"

"I tried to get proof, some evidence of what he's doing. However, he's made sure not to leave anything incriminating lying around now. There's nothing that supports my claim." Allen was a little stunned at Philip's lack of concern. He didn't even seem to care about Maxwell, let alone his fear that he was trying something. First he accuses him of lying, and now he all but tells him to fend for himself.

"Listen, Allen. I'll keep a good lookout for you and see what I can do, but in the meantime I think it'd be best if you just left Maxwell alone. You really have no idea what that man is capable of." Philip's eyes held a silent plea that his friend would listen to his words. Allen was about to comment on it when the topic of their conversation walked into the room. Maxwell sneered upon seeing Hale and Philip started hurriedly ushering him out while explaining that he and Maxwell were only going to discuss some lab business. Nothing more. As he passed the man he was beginning to hate perhaps more than anything, he threw him a disgusted look and left. He was up to something, and Allen Hale was determined to find out what it was.

He ended up getting fired two months later. However, it wasn't just because he was outshone by Maxwell's own brilliance. He had been snooping around too much for the man's liking and dug his own grave. Hospital patients had been mysteriously disappearing or dying and no one could figure out why or how. At first they seemed in full health or on their way to that point, and then all of a sudden something would go wrong. They'd wind up dead. Not murdered, not suicide, just... dead. Or missing altogether. It was random and there was no explanation. Not a single person had the slightest clue why it was happening, until Maxwell spoke up. That damn Maxwell had completely destroyed everything he lived for with his selfishness and lies. Allen had been in the lab conducting an experiment on the bacteria that he was only now beginning to understand when Maxwell walked in.

"What do you think you're doing? Can't you see I'm busy working here? Now stay back before you end up getting contaminated or ruining the whole thing." It was no secret that Allen wasn't particularly fond of the other man. Ever since he started working there he was rather snide towards him and it had only gotten worse with time.

"I think it'd be best if you quit now, Hale. Before anything ugly should come up." Maxwell wasn't exactly playing favorites when it came to the man across from him either.

Allen turned around to face him. Was that a threat? "What do you mean by that?" he asked, glaring at him.

"I mean you should just stop your work right there and find a new job. Soon, I might add."

"Hmph. And if I don't?" Allen put on a tough front, but the look in George Maxwell's eyes was sending chills down his spine. He had always gotten a bad feeling from the guy but could never quite understand why. At first, he thought it was simply due to his utter disdain for him. Then he figured it was because of what he'd been doing in secret. Now that he was the target of such a gaze, however, he suddenly felt it was for other reasons.

"Listen, Hale, while you still have an opportunity to do so. It really would be for the best if you left." His tone became firmer and his gaze hardened. Allen had to fight to suppress a shudder. "It isn't anything personal," he said with a sneer. "Just take this as some friendly... advice. Or a warning."

"Warning?!" Allen, despite his efforts not to, raised his voice. Who did this guy think he was talking to? He was one of the most brilliant scientists there! "You think just because some of your research is speeding ahead you can just become the boss of everyone? I've been working here for years! I-"

"Have probably run out of fruits for your labor, yes." Maxwell didn't bother to hide the slight smirk that formed upon seeing Allen's increased anger. "You may have been Memorial's best, but I far exceed you. My research is profound and my data is actually of use to people. Yours is, well, outdated. Take your little experiment for example." He gestured to the table Allen had set up. "You're still trying to comprehend that when there's no longer people suffering from it anymore. Pointless really. If only you put that kind of devotion and effort into something that actually mattered."

"What did you just say?!" His shout was ignored as Maxwell had already turned and was making his way to the door.

"You're a smart man, Hale. I hope you'll make a wise decision, for your sake." With that, George Maxwell left Allen Hale to fume in peace and quiet.

 _ **Bang!**_

Allen had slammed his fist on the table in pure anger. "Dammit! Who does that asshole think he is?!" He stood there hunched over and taking deep breaths to calm himself down. When he finally did he looked over at his work. It wasn't really pointless, was it? Suppose another outbreak occurred? Then what? He sighed and sat down in a nearby chair. "It can't really be pointless. My research is just as important as anyone else's. Besides, there's nothing he can do to make me lose my job. He's the one who should be worried. Once I find out what he's been doing I'll take him down." Rubbing his temples he sighed again. "Yes. I've nothing to worry about. Nothing at all." If only he knew just how worried he should've been.

A week later saw Allen practically chased out of Memorial. Maxwell had framed him for the mysterious deaths of patients. He said that Allen was doing horrible things to them. Drugs, torture, experiments, the works. According to him and his 'proof' Allen had secretly been bringing patients to the lab and testing all sorts of serums on them. This was absolutely false, however no one believed he was innocent. Somehow-and Allen hated to think of the methods Maxwell could've used-he managed to convince everyone of his guilt. Of course, this wasn't the type of thing a place like Memorial Pharmaceuticals Research Lab wanted people to know about. To avoid any public scrutiny they kept the police out of it and simply fired the senior scientist. The cover story was that due to Maxwell's more advanced research they no longer needed Allen Hale. He was useless. And, in a way, it was sort of the truth. They didn't need him there anymore. Nobody relied on him for anything, so he was stuck trying to follow his own work and nothing more. Philip had hardly spoken to him after that mysterious talk with Maxwell and at first he wasn't quite certain of the reasons, but after confronting him about the current ordeal he suddenly had all the answers he needed.

"Philip. It's been a while." Allen had come across him in his office going over some papers.

"Oh. Allen." He obviously didn't want to talk but the other man was sick and tired of this game. "Listen, I'm really busy right now and you still have to gather all your materials and leave, so..."

"Don't even try that. I've already cleared out all my work and was just about to go. There was just one thing I wanted to clear up."

"Look, I-"

"What's Maxwell got on you?" The question took Philip by surprise and for a few moments he said nothing. "Well? He must have done something. Surely you don't believe that I'm the one who's killed all those people?"

"Of course I don't," he sighed. "It's just... well... there isn't really anyone else it leads to. I'm sorry, Al."

"So you do think I did it."

"No, I really don't."

"Then what are you trying to say?" He slammed both his hands on the table, startling his friend and former co-worker.

"I-I don't have any way to defend you. You saw the proof Maxwell had. How am I supposed to help you when I don't have a way to discredit him? People can't just go on my word."

"I know. I'm sorry." Allen straightened up and pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew Maxwell was lying about more than just his 'proof', and from the looks of it so did Tate.

"I know how much this really hurts you, Allen. I'd love to help you, I really would, but I can't. Maxwell's very intelligent, and his skills go outside of just medical science."

"That reminds me," he said, removing his glasses and fixing his dull yet stern gaze on the man in front of him. "What did Maxwell and you 'discuss' those couple months ago?"

"What did we discuss? Well, I can't really remember but it was just lab business."

"Funny, how you can recall what it was about and nothing more." He was going to get an answer from him. Philip would have to call the guards and have them drag him out of there if he wanted to avoid talking.

"Allen, really, it was nothing. Just business, I assure you." Philip was evading the question in every way possible and that was when it clicked.

"I see," he said. He placed his glasses back on his face and began to make his way to the door. "Just business." As the door latched behind him he swore he heard Philip sigh in relief. If he had, then his theory was correct. Maxwell had forced his good friend and former colleague into something grotesque. It was something so horrible and disgusting that it made Allen want to throw up. That sick and twisted man was using the hospital patients as test subjects for his own research. And he had forced Philip Tate into helping.


	2. Chapter 2

It was 1982 when Allen Hale began his revenge. A year after everything had taken place. Not only did he lose his job and a good friend in that time, but also his family. He told his wife what happened and somehow it caused the last pillar of his happiness to crumble to ruin.

"How could you let this happen, Allen?" His wife was in tears and Allen knew no way to stop it. "What will we do with poor Shannon?"

"Michelle, please! Just calm down." He took her hand in his and held it, hoping that it would stop this madness. "There's no logical reason for you to be so upset with me."

"No logical reason?!" She was hysterical now, and a child's cry could be heard above them. "You've done nothing but complain about this Maxwell guy since the first day he came in, and you expect me to believe that you don't have something against him?"

"What are you saying?! You don't think I've caused any of this, do you?!" He hadn't meant to scream but he was angry at the suggestion.

"How would I know if you didn't?" She snatched her hand out of his and stood up from the small kitchen table they'd been sitting at for the past hour. So far all they'd accomplished was yelling and upsetting their daughter. "Everything was just fine until you had to go play detective and investigate him! Now look at what you've done. Why didn't you just leave him alone?" Another cry sounded and she turned to head to its source.

"Michelle, wait. Please. I'm sorry I yelled at you but please don't be angry with me." Allen had lowered his voice and was now tightly holding onto his wife's arm as if she would evaporate at any second.

"Is that all you're ever worried about? Yourself? What about our child, Allen? Do you really think it's okay for her to hear this? Honestly. We just lost our sole source of income and thanks to you being nosy we may not get another." That was true. Maxwell made certain that Allen Hale would never be able to work in another pharmaceuticals lab again. This was his worst nightmare as they had no other source of money coming in. Michelle's persistent illness kept her from working and was preventing his money from being spent on much else and, despite all his hard work at Memorial, he couldn't figure out how to help her to save his life. Or better yet hers. "I'm sorry about this, Allen," she said as she slipped her arm out of his iron grip and began fiddling with the piece of jewelry on her left ring finger.

"Oh dear God no," he whispered.

"This isn't working anymore..." She began to pull off the ring.

"Michelle... Please, it isn't true. I care about you... and Shannon too. Please don't do this to me."

"There you go again," she said bitterly. "You're always worried about yourself." She handed him the ring and walked away, leaving him speechless and numb. Stopping in the doorway she added, "It's always 'and Shannon,' isn't it? Well, we'll get the papers and then you can go on your merry way. That way you won't have to worry about me. Or Shannon. I'll take care of her." With that she left him standing alone in the dimly lit room. He could just barely make out the light thumping and creaking as she went upstairs to calm their daughter. No, _her_ daughter. He was no longer a part of the equation.

"Shit... what have I done...?" He slowly sank to the floor all the while cradling the ring as if it would allow him to rewind time and fix all of this. "My wife..." It took him a few moments to realize that the strained voice was his own and that the moisture on his face was tears. When did he even start crying?

"Shhhh... It's alright, Sweetie." Overhead, he could hear Michelle's gentle voice consoling Shannon and wished that he was on the receiving end of it and not the cause of her anger. "Daddy and I were just having a heated discussion. You know what those are, right? When people don't agree with each other and try really hard to prove their points?" He swore he heard a slight crack in her voice but was too busy sobbing to notice. Why didn't he just do what Philip said and leave Maxwell alone? If it wasn't for him and his stupid morals then none of this would have happened. Maybe his and Michelle's relationship wasn't the best, but surely it wouldn't have come to this had Maxwell not done what he did.

"That bastard... He'll pay." That was the moment Allen decided he'd get revenge on Maxwell. His life was ruined because of that man. Now he was going to return the favor.

It didn't take long for the divorce papers to be completed. Once everything had checked out Allen Hale found himself officially without a wife. He was all alone. There was no one left for him to turn to and the only company he had was his own anger and bitterness. They were currently holed up inside a very small and cheap apartment together.

"That damn sicko," he growled while reading an article about Maxwell in the paper. Apparently, the man had successfully created a cure for a little girl's illness and was being praised all throughout the country for it. It wouldn't be long before the whole world would end up eating out of the palm of his hand. "If only they knew the truth. Then they wouldn't love him so much." Allen had done a lot of research on George Maxwell and his family. A year with nothing better to do had given him plenty of time to study up. The things he uncovered on that man and his history, they were horrible.

The Maxwells were wealthy and they were considered one of the most noble families in existence. They could get absolutely anything they wanted, even order war if they felt like. That much he already knew. That had been very deep in the past, however. The more recent generations of Maxwells had dabbled in black magic, even going so far as to perform a few rituals for their own benefit. As it turns out Johnathan Maxwell, George's great, great, great grandfather, was unable to have children. It was not something he nor his wife were capable of. Both saddened and angered by this, he set to work trying to find a way around it. After all, it wouldn't do for the Maxwell name to just vanish into thin air. Eventually he came across different rituals he thought would work. None of them yielded any results. Except for one.

Allen was absolutely repulsed when he found out the truth behind George Maxwell's existence. Johnathan murdered two children-twins-to use in his sick ritual. He got his children, but as a consequence he spawned the supposed Maxwell Curse. Every couple of generations the 'Cursed Twins' would be born and were supposed to be buried under the Maxwell Tree, lest they destroy the entire family and wreak havoc. It wasn't just that one technicality in George's existence that angered Allen, (he wasn't really supposed to have been born considering the fact that Johnathan and his wife's infertility would've caused the Maxwell line to end) but also the subtle hints that many of Johnathan Maxwell's descendants may not have been entirely human. Those 'failed' rituals had had an affect after all.

By the time Allen had finally discovered this information, a year had passed. He had spent so much time rummaging through long-forgotten archives and well-hidden files that he hardly even noticed. It was shortly after his research was complete that he heard of his ex-wife's death. Her illness had finally gotten the best of her. Although he almost hated to admit it-almost-it didn't bother him much. After their divorce he felt shattered. Any remorse he felt from their last fight and the many others was crushed and replaced with a dark hatred. If she was going to be that way, then so be it. He could manage just fine without her and Shannon. It would've been troublesome to exact his revenge with a family anyway.

"Oh, who am I kidding?" It was so lonely without his family, no matter how small it may have been. One of the things he learned about Maxwell during his uncovering of his clouded past was that he was expecting children. Twins, to be exact, a boy and a girl. And he was a very firm believer in the Maxwell Curse. After Allen found out that little detail he finally understood a way to make Maxwell suffer like he had.

 ** _Rrrrrnnnngggg..._**

 ** _Click_**

"Hello? This is Philip Tate speaking."

"Hello Phil. It's been a long while, I know."

"A... Allen? Is that you?"

"Yes... it is."

"What? Why are you...? Are you okay? You sound a little out of it." There was no hiding the surprise and fear in his voice. Something had happened to Allen for him to call so out of the blue like this. They hadn't spoken since he left Memorial.

"I'm fine. I'm calling because I wanted to ask you a little favor. As an old friend."

"W-what kind of favor?" Philip really didn't like the tone in his former colleague's voice.

"You know of the Maxwell Curse, don't you?"

After he explained to Philip what he wanted to do to get back at Maxwell, Allen Hale waited for the opportune moment to strike. He practically stalked the man's every move. Then the night arrived when his children were born and he was out in the graveyard burying them beneath his family's infamous tree. When he was finished with the deed he silently disappeared into the black depths.

"Let's go, Philip," Allen said urgently once he was certain that Maxwell was long gone.

"I still don't think this is a good idea, Allen." Philip was hesitant, and for good reason. After the horrid threats George Maxwell had made to him and seeing what became of Allen, he knew that messing around with this man was a terrible idea. Not to mention what might happen to them if they unleashed the wrath of the curse.

"You'll never fully understand the importance of this, and I don't expect you to. All you need to understand is that while you were being an accessory to Maxwell's crimes, I was suffering deeply. I lost _everything,_ Philip." The man winced. He'd never seen such a cold look in Hale's eyes nor heard such rage and bitterness in his voice. It was as if his friend had frozen up completely on the inside and he was speaking to the twisted, distorted reflection of what the man once was.

"This disgusting excuse for a human-no, this _demon,_ has caused so many people so much pain. And it's that that's making me do this. You think I _want_ to get involved with Maxwell again? I know the risks I'm taking, and if it means saving any more innocent lives from his twisted ideas then so be it. Now, let's get going shall we? We don't have much time." By that point it had begun to rain, and as Allen Hale and a very reluctant Philip Tate made their way towards the place where the children were buried it had turned into a downpour. The rain pelted the two of them and lightening streaked across the sky as they began to dig up the graves.

 _Please don't let this be a mistake,_ Philip thought as Allen uncovered the first child. It was a boy, wrapped tightly in cellophane and covered in mud.

"Dead..." Allen muttered. "Hurry and help me with the other one, Phil, before it's too late!" He complied, and their efforts were rewarded with a still-breathing little girl. "It's a good thing we got to her in time, huh?"

"Hm...? Oh, yeah..." Philip shined the flashlight on the girl's face to get a better look at her. She had light brown hair and was crying. As soon as Allen peeled off the last of the cellophane her screams became audible and he brought her close to his chest to quiet her.

"Shhhh... There, there. It's alright, Sweetie. You'll be just fine now." As he said this he could swear he heard Michelle's voice echoing the exact same words from so long ago. However, Philip clearly didn't hear any dead women so he assumed it was his imagination.

Eventually the girl stopped screaming, and then she stopped crying altogether. "She's asleep," he said. "She's a little angel, isn't she? I'm glad we got here in time." He was looking at her with a father's love and admiration. Philip said nothing as Allen cradled the newborn in his arms as though it were his own. Had this been a hospital room, with a loving mother in place of Tate, the image would have been far more appropriate. However, they were standing in a graveyard at night, pelted by unrelenting rain, and Allen Hale was holding the potentially cursed child of his mortal enemy, which they had just dug out of the dirt. Nothing at all was appropriate.

"I think I'll name her Alyssa. Yes. Alyssa Hale. What do you think, Philip?"

"I think this is insane!" A brief flash of lightening lit up the scenery enough for him to make out Allen's offended look. "There's absolutely no sense in this, Allen. What was the point in digging up that girl?"

"Would you have preferred to leave her? To let her die alone with absolutely zero understanding of why like her brother? What was done to these children is a horrible, unforgivable crime."

"Of course it is. Anyone with a sound mind would recognize that but even so..." He took a breath before continuing. "Tell me, Allen, did you really do this just to spite Maxwell or is there some ulterior motive behind everything?"

 _I can't tell him my true reasons. That would ruin the whole plan._ "I know this child will grow up to be a major thorn in Maxwell's side. He wanted these two to die for a reason. We may have lost the one, but this one's alive. She's safe. I could never live with myself if I sat idly by and let a man murder two innocent children out of pure paranoia. People who turn a blind eye to such disgusting acts against humanity... Well, I can't imagine how they could possibly sleep at night." He aimed the last part specifically at Philip, who looked away in utter shame. "Let's leave before we end up with pneumonia." Allen started back up the hill to the car and Philip followed after a moment's pause. However, he caught a glimpse of something else sticking out of the ground. He knelt down and wiped off some of the mud.

"Allen, wait!" Allen, who had just reached the car and was starting to tuck the baby into a makeshift car seat, turned to look back down the hill. Philip had the flashlight shining on a golden object still mostly buried. "I've found something else under here!" He had to shout in order to be heard over the rain and thunder.

"Alright! Just give me another minute!" He continued to place the girl into the backseat and while Philip waited for him to make his way back down the hill he examined the object. All he could really tell so far was that it was gold and appeared to be some sort of statue. Whatever it was, it was giving him the creeps.

"What's the matter?" Allen was now right beside him and he pointed to the item.

"I think it's some sort of statue or something."

"Of course. I completely forgot about the statue." He began to remove it.

"W-wait a minute! Is this something we should be messing with?" They had already dug up the children. Maxwell was sure to find out about that sooner or later and he might somehow discover it was them and hunt them down. Philip shuddered at the thought of what he might do if he did.

"Don't tell me you're afraid? We've already gotten the kids. There's nothing worse that could come up. Besides, the Maxwell Curse is just a hoax; an old wives' tale. It's pure conjecture." Allen ignored his old friend's protests and warnings and pulled the thing out the ground. It was indeed a small statue. It was completely gold and its face was contorted into a twisted smile. Why anyone would make such a disturbing object was well beyond Philip.

"Can we just leave now, Al?" He wanted to get in the car and go home so he could spend time with his family and be as far away from that thing as possible.

"Yes. I've got everything I need now." They started back up the hill together but along the way Philip fell behind a bit.

"What have we done?" Giving the Maxwell Tree a final glance, he climbed into the car after Allen and they drove off into the night.

* * *

 **A/N: Like pretty much all my other stories, I probably won't update this very quickly. Still, I hope you enjoy. Also, Happy New Year! (even though there's only, like, one person reading this)**


	3. Chapter 3

"Daddy! Daddy! Look at what I made!" A young girl no older than seven came running into the kitchen waving around a drawing she just made. However, the man she was looking for was not where she last saw him. Before she went into her room he had been sitting at the table muttering things to himself and hadn't really paid much attention to her. So, like any young child, she thought it might cheer him up if she gave him a surprise. However, he had left again without warning. Already used to the routine she climbed onto the chair and grabbed the note off the table.

 _'Alyssa, I had to leave for some work. Don't worry, I won't be gone for too long this time. I've left you some dinner in the fridge. Be a good girl for me, okay?_ _Love, your father'_

Young Alyssa Hale sighed. It was always like this. Her father was always leaving to go somewhere and never spent a lot of time with her. One time she asked him where he was constantly going but all he said to her was that it was 'adult stuff' and that she'd understand one day when she was older. Looking at the picture in her hands she sighed again before walking out of the kitchen and heading down the short hallway to her father's room. She cracked the door open and peeked inside as if he would somehow be in there waiting to surprise her. He wasn't though so she opened the door all the way, stepped inside, and then shut it behind her. Alyssa placed the drawing on his desk where he'd see it when he got home and turned to leave.

"Ah!" She clutched her head and fell to her knees. "No! Please... don't..."

 ** _"There's nothing to be afraid of, Alyssa."_**

"No! Leave me alone!" She shook her head to try and clear it but to no avail. The dark voice that often tormented her would not leave.

 ** _"Why are you so stubborn? I'm not trying to hurt you."_** If Alyssa didn't know any better she would've thought it was a little offended.

"Just go away!" She gasped when she remembered the special amulet her father got her a little while ago. It was supposed to stop the voice from harming her. Running out her father's room she quickly went to hers and threw open the dresser drawer. Inside it was a small red and yellow amulet with special markings on the front. Alyssa snatched it out of its resting place and sighed in relief when she felt the voice and its dark influence subside. Her father had told her countless times to keep the thing on her or else bad things would happen but she just couldn't help it. She was already enough of a freak as is-everyone told her so. The last thing she felt she needed was to carry around a strange charm from a shrine and say, 'It's to keep me from hurting anyone' or something. The voice, Bates, it said its name was, would always tell her to do horrible things. One time she blacked out and when she woke up she found herself clutching a bloodied knife with her father standing over her holding bandages on his arm. That had been the reason behind the purchase of the amulet.

Alyssa had asked her father about the voice before. Questions like, 'What is it?' and 'Why is it here?' were the biggest concerns for her. He tried to explain it to her, he really did, but with her being so young she hardly understood it.

"It's not something you'll understand so easily, Alyssa," he had said.

"But Daddy. I have to know. How am I supposed to make it go away if I don't know what it is?" Five-year-old Alyssa Hale was close to tears as she hung off her father's pant leg and begged him to tell her about the voice. It frightened her to no end and, despite all the promises it made about not hurting her and swearing to protect her, she wanted nothing more than for it to go away.

Allen Hale sighed. How could he tell her anything about it when he didn't fully understand it himself? He debated admitting that to her but glancing down at down at her now while she was hanging onto his pants for dear life, he decided against it. Instead, he settled for giving her the best explanation he could. "Alright, alright. I'll tell you. Just please let go of my leg. I need it." She giggled and released it, and he couldn't help but smile a bit.

"So what is it?" she asked as he lifted her up and carried her into her bedroom.

"Let's just call it a sort of split personality."

"What's that?"

"It's... it's um... I'm sorry. I'm trying to put this in terms that you'd understand." He reached the door and pulled it open, still pondering how he'd describe it. Setting her down on the bed he continued. "A split personality is a time when you aren't quite feeling or acting like your normal self. You might do things that you wouldn't normally do, say things that you wouldn't normally say, and sometimes you might even black out completely. In that time you might be a totally different person to those around you." Seeing the dumbfounded look on his daughter's face he knew he didn't exactly clear anything up for her. "Look, what I'm trying to say is that the voice you keep hearing is like another version of yourself."

"A very mean version," she said as she snuggled under the covers.

"Yes, well, don't worry." He leant down and kissed her on the head. "I'll figure out how to make it go away." He turned and headed to the door.

"Goodnight, Daddy."

"Goodnight, Sweetheart," he said as he turned off the light and quietly latched the door. Standing outside of his daughter's room he sighed a bit. It hurt him to have to lie to her like this but he couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth. It would ruin the small ounce of security the girl had if she found out he had no idea how to help her. Taking off his glasses he rubbed his eyes and then made his way to his room for another late night trying to figure out what to do about that voice.

As his footsteps faded away Alyssa couldn't help it anymore. Letting a few tears slide down her face she mumbled, "But you didn't tell me why it's here," before drifting off into an uncomfortable sleep.

Coming back to the present, Alyssa sighed once more before sitting down on her bed and bringing her knees to her chest. Her father still hadn't told her the voice's-er, Bates's-reason for existing. She was beginning to suspect that maybe he didn't know. "No," she told herself. "He has to know. Maybe he just doesn't want me to?" Nothing scared her more than the thought of her father keeping secrets from her. Especially on important things like this. She reassured herself by saying that there was no reason for him to lie. He was her father, so why should he? Still, sometimes Bates whispered things to her. Things like how he wasn't her father and he was only using her to get back at someone. That he didn't love her at all.

 ** _"It's true..."_**

She gasped. Even with the amulet he could still get through sometimes. Getting up, she took a risk and headed into the bathroom. She pulled the small stepladder she used to reach the sink out of its place and stood up on it. Steeling herself she peered into the mirror and saw none other than Bates staring back. She stifled a small gasp. It freaked her out how she always saw him in her reflection. It was that reason alone why she constantly avoided mirrors. Her dad had taken hers out of her room after she startled him awake one night by screaming bloody murder. They shared the same face, except her alter ego's was much darker and more sinister-looking. Perhaps the most notable difference between them was the cynical, all-hating look in Bates's eyes. However, that hate never seemed to be directed at her.

"What did you say?"

 ** _"I said, it's true. Everything you believe in... Your 'father,' your life... It's nothing but a lie."_** Her reflection smirked but she knew she was frowning.

"I don't believe you. Why would dad lie to me?" The second she said this, she regretted it. Bates's smirk turned into a full-fledged grin and a sick gleam washed over his eyes.

 ** _"Well, for starters,"_** he said, **_"'daddy dearest' isn't either of those words. You're not his child. And more importantly-"_**

"No!" Alyssa covered her ears block him out but it was pointless. He was in her head after all.

 ** _"He doesn't love you. All he sees you as is a tool for revenge, not a daughter."_**

"That's not true," she whined.

"Alyssa?" Hearing her father's voice she jumped down from the stepladder and quickly put it back just as he reached the bathroom door. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Oh. Nothing. I was just, uh, brushing my teeth." She couldn't tell him she'd been talking to Bates. He always told her not to because he was a bad influence and very dangerous.

"I see," he said, eyeing the bone dry sink and toothbrushes. He decided not to press the matter. "That's a good girl. I saw the picture you drew. It's very nice. Why don't you come help me decide where to hang it?"

"Okay!" She followed him out the bathroom and to his room, still trying to forget what Bates had told her. It had to be a lie. It _had_ to be. Alyssa didn't know what to do with herself if it wasn't.

Allen Hale was trying his hardest to stay focused on his daughter and not drift off into his own thoughts, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. While she was running around his room talking excitedly and placing the picture on any place she thought it might look cool, he was thinking back on his conversation with Philip. He had already taken the next step in his revenge on Maxwell six years ago. The statue had been in Philip's care for some time now and from what he said during their meeting, he still believed that the Maxwell Curse was real. He even went so far as to hide the statue in his basement. Allen had to chuckle at the man's paranoia. Although given the current state of the statue, the paranoia was rightly placed.

"What's so funny, Daddy?" Alyssa had stopped her frenzy to look at him.

"Oh, nothing. Just remembering a little joke." He hadn't meant to laugh out loud. "Hey, how about we put it over there?" He took the drawing and placed it on the wall above the desk, right by a photo of the two of them.

"That's perfect!" Allen smiled. That wasn't the only thing that was perfect.

"So Maxwell's not acting any different? He's not doing anything out of the ordinary?"

"I've told you a thousand times. He's the same he's always been." Allen Hale and Philip Tate were seated at the latter's kitchen table. Philip's wife had taken their children, Michael and Ashley, out to go see a play and he would have gone with them had Allen not called and asked to speak with him. To avoid any suspicion he feigned illness and told them he'd make it up once he was better. Sitting here talking with the man across from him when he could be spending time with his family was beginning to grate his nerves, however. "Why are you so interested in his behavior anyway? Shouldn't you be more concerned with what he's doing?"

"Have you managed to get anything we could use as proof?"

"...No..."

"Well then... I guess I can't make it my concern," Allen said rudely.

"You were so determined before," Philip responded.

"I was able to search around because I worked there. You're the Lab Director; you do something. Unless, of course, you're still helping him with something."

"If by that you mean I'm helping him with those experiments of his then you're completely wrong!" Allen tried not to laugh. He'd never seen the other man get so worked up before.

"I didn't say anything at all about experiments," was the amused reply.

Philip froze completely for a moment. Then more calmly and slightly nervous he added, "N-neither did I. I mean-well, what I meant by that was I've got nothing to do with whatever he does to those people."

"No. You're only supposed to act like you don't know anything about it, right?"

"Y... yes... I'm supposed to ignore the fact that hospital patients occasionally go missing."

"Isn't that enough ground for you to go to the police?"

"You don't understand!" Philip slammed his fists on the table. "That man's got everyone there under his control, even the guards! If I speak up I'll..." He trailed off and Allen felt a twinge of anger. Only a man like Maxwell would go to such lengths for something so evil. He still couldn't figure out what he'd said to Philip to make him so obedient but guessed it was along the lines of hurting his family. If there was one way to make a man break, it was to hurt the ones he loved most. Good thing Allen Hale had no family.

"You won't have to worry about it for much longer, Philip. I'll make sure Maxwell falls." _And you too_ , he thought.

"If you say so..."

"You still have the statue, right?"

"Hm? Uh, yeah. It's hidden away in the den. It's in a closet. Laugh all you want," he said once he saw the smirk form on Allen's lips, "but I'm not taking any chances. That thing gives me the creeps."

"The curse isn't real and the statue probably has absolutely nothing to do with the Maxwells' magic."

"You say all that but with 'probably' thrown in there I'm afraid I won't believe it. There's just something about that thing that makes me uncomfortable." Philip glanced at the clock and then stood up. "Kathryn and the children will be back soon. You should probably get going." Allen stood and made his way to the door. "Are you really certain that you want to get involved with Maxwell again? Don't you remember what happened the last time?" he asked just as the other man was about to leave.

"I remember," he said. "That's the entire reason why I'm doing all of this. I've nothing to lose now." _You, however, have everything,_ old friend.

"If you say so." Philip shut the door and Allen smiled. If only the man knew what was coming. That statue would find its way out the closet one of these days and when it did, his revenge would be complete. All he had to do in the meantime was wait for Maxwell to tumble and eventually everything else would fall into place as well.

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for the reviews MadameMirage77. I'm glad you like the story so far. Updates are gonna be much less frequent now though because school's starting back and I always take care of my schoolwork first. Hopefully I'll be able to write on the weekends. Thanks again and I hope you liked this chapter.**


	4. Chapter 4

George Maxwell was in his lab scowling over some notes when he heard the doorbell ring. Cursing loudly, he stood up. Of all the times for an interruption now had to be the worst. He was still in the process of perfecting his cerebral toxin formula. The results of past experiments weren't exactly favorable. The doorbell rang again and he muttered more obscenities as he made his way through the mansion to the front door. Swinging it open forcefully he was faced with nothing more than a small package. Narrowing his eyes he looked around for whoever could've left it. However, it was just too dark out for even him to see properly. He saw no movement in the shadows so he figured that whoever left the package was long gone. It was probably some prank anyway. Still, he brought the package inside and upon reading the note attached to it carried it all the way back into his lab.

 _'You shouldn't try to bury your past,'_ it said. He moved some papers aside and set it on the now cleared space. Glaring at the mysterious package he debated not opening it at all and instead throwing it back outside. However, the note piqued his curiosity. It couldn't have been a prank; it was far too specific. He found a box cutter, sliced through the tape, and reached inside to find something wrapped in bubble wrap. The second he touched the object he knew exactly what it was. There was no need for him to remove it from its protective cover but he did so anyway, perhaps to assure it.

"No!" he screamed as he dropped the statue. "How did it...? It's not possible!" Yet there it was, the very same statue he had buried with his children a year ago. "It shouldn't be here..." He had to get rid of it. And the person who sent it back to him as well. When he found out who had done this...

"George? What's the matter?" His wife was right outside the door and she sounded distressed. It was most likely due to his yelling. He quickly picked up the horrid object, stuffed it into his coat, and ran to the door. "A-are you alright?" she stuttered once she saw the panicked look on his face.

"Yes, I'm fine," he answered quickly. Locking the door behind him he added, "There's somewhere I must go."

"What's come up? George, are you sure you're-"

"I'll be back shortly," he said, giving her a quick kiss before rushing past. Once he was out of sight she looked at the door he'd emerged from. He always spent so much time in there.

"I wonder what he's up to..." It would be best not to press him. George Maxwell was not the type of man who wanted others prying into his personal business. Not even those closest to him.

Driving at break-neck speeds Maxwell gave a small shudder and glanced at the statue tossed haphazardly onto the passenger seat. If someone had dug that up, then they could've also discovered one of his darkest secrets. And perhaps one of his greatest regrets. It pained him to have to do that to his own children. It wasn't even their fault. He wasn't entirely a heartless monster. He envied those who could have kids of their own to love and cherish. If it wasn't for that damn curse...

"Why? Why am I the only man who has to suffer like this?" It wasn't fair, but once he perfected his formula it would be. He'd make everyone else suffer for their good fortune. Then he wouldn't be the only one feeling as though he was trapped in some sort of eternal damnation. Giving the statue another glance Maxwell started a bit when he hit a bump and its sinister smile turned towards him. He had to get rid of the thing _now._ It was freaking him out. He could feel its dark power slowly drifting around him and he didn't want any of it. Its aura was suffocating him, it felt like. When did it even become so hard to breathe? He could feel himself beginning to choke. The car veered a bit to avoid drifting off the road and into the ditch.

He took another look at the demonic statue and decided it wasn't worth it to take it back to the graveyard. Any longer with the thing and he might wind up dead. So he snatched it up, opened the window, and flung it out. He sighed in relief once he could feel the sickening thickness leave the air. Maxwell sighed again as he wiped his hand across his face and let the wind from the open window refresh him a bit. He felt like he was overheating. After another few minutes he shut the window and brought the car to a stop. He stepped out and made his way down the hill to the Maxwell Tree.

"No! I don't believe it!" Right at his feet were small craters where the statue and his children were supposed to be. It was just as he anticipated. Someone had discovered his secret and dug up everything. Only one item was left behind. His son's body. He must've died before whoever found the place reached him. Maxwell didn't know whether to feel a little relieved or even more horrified. On one hand, only one child survived and maybe it wouldn't be a problem. On the other hand, both children were cursed and he had no idea what would happen in the situation that one died and the other lived. Somehow, he knew he was lucky that it was Lynn, his daughter, who made it. If Bates was still alive and grew up he'd be in trouble. He felt much more darkness radiating off him than he had Lynn. It was enough to rattle even a man like himself, and he'd dealt with many otherworldly things.

Taking a breath to calm himself down he gave the tree a forlorn look before turning and walking back to his car. Whoever did this was going to suffer dearly. As he climbed into the driver's seat he groaned a bit and rubbed his temples. He was getting so frustrated that he'd wound up with a headache. Great. Just what he needed. Maxwell started the car, turned it around, and drove back the way he came, completely missing the other vehicle parked a little ways off the road as he passed.

"Hmph. I was expecting him to bury it but I guess even the best people can't overcome their fear. Oh well. At least I didn't have to get covered in dirt getting it again." The owner of the car smirked and looked at the statue they'd just recovered. "How a man as intelligent as Maxwell could believe in curses is beyond me. However, it doesn't matter. His superstition is about to be his downfall. Now, to put this thing where it really belongs." They started the car and drove in the direction opposite to Maxwell's.

When he stepped inside, Maxwell was met with his wife, Claire, who was incredibly worried. "Are you sure you're okay, George?" she asked, walking to him.

"I'm fine. There was just... something I had to do."

"Oh... Well, did you take care of it?"

"Y-yes... At least I hope so." He had muttered the last part to himself but she still heard.

"George..."

"I'm fine, really." Right after he said this he flinched and brought a hand to his head. Claire gave a small gasp and placed one hand on his shoulder and the other on his head.

"You're not 'fine.' Come sit down, George." Not feeling like arguing he complied and let her lead him to the living room and push him onto the sofa.

"I have a headache," he stated blandly.

"Wait here. I'll go and get you some medicine," she said before turning to leave.

"Get some water too."

"Sure thing, dear." As Maxwell waited for his wife to return he couldn't help but think about what he was going to do now. Someone knew his secret. They knew about his children and they probably knew about his entire family. If that was the case, he was screwed. Absolutely no one could know the truth about him and his family. Only one person was given a small amount of information on the matter: Claire. He hadn't told her everything-the details behind his very existence and his humanity were things he would refuse to tell any living creature-but she did know about the curse and why he had to bury their children. She understood, but wasn't exactly thrilled to hear that she wouldn't be able to raise her children like any expecting mother would be looking forward to. It wasn't exactly a fine moment for either of them.

"Here you are." Claire handed him the glass and a pill and he downed both. Seating herself beside him she said, "You know you can always talk to me about anything."

"I know," he said, not even looking at her.

"What's bothering you?" she asked, taking his hand in hers.

"Well..." He debated whether or not he should tell her. Taking a glance at her face he chose to talk. "You know my family's curse."

"Yes... Why we had to bury Lynn and Bates." It was a bit pointless to have given them names when they were going to die, but Claire had insisted. She wanted at least one bit of normalcy in the situation, no matter how small. So before Maxwell had taken them away she named them.

"It seems... It seems someone's found out about that." He inwardly cringed when he heard her gasp.

"You mean, someone knows?"

"More than that. They've dug up the children." And the statue, he thought. But he kept that little tidbit to himself.

"What?! Someone has the children?"

"Only one of them. Lynn. Bates is... dead."

"O-oh..." He couldn't bear to look at her face. The hurt that shone in her eyes whenever the children were mentioned; it nearly killed him. "So, Lynn is out there somewhere... alive..."

"Yes. I've got no clue who did it."

"I'm glad."

"What!" He looked at her in utter shock. She knew as well as he did the danger of the curse, so why was she happy?!

"I mean-uh, ah!" The sudden raise in her husband's voice startled her and for a moment she couldn't piece her words together. "What I meant was..."

"You're glad our daughter is alive," he finished.

"D... don't tell me you're not a little happy yourself! I know she's cursed and all but still. That's our _daughter,_ George. She's our flesh and blood. How can you not care at all about this?"

"I suppose..." he sighed. Maxwell didn't want to tell her that he was horrified by the fact. It could possibly be her breaking point.

"I hope she's raised in a good home." Maxwell said nothing and opted to look out the window only to see nothing but blinds. A shift to his right made him refocus his attention back on Claire, who had moved closer to him. "I know you're stressed, hun, but don't fret. I'm sure everything will be okay," she said.

"I don't see how you can be so su-mpmh!" He suddenly found her lips on his and didn't hesitate to return the kiss. Eventually he pulled her down on top of him and wrapped his arms around her. However, not even the love he and his wife shared could get his mind completely off the incident and his headache was hitting him with a vengeance. He pushed her off and got up from the couch. "I've... got some work I have to finish..." Despite the medication to stop it the pain was actually worsening and simply thinking was beginning to make him nauseous.

"It's about the children, isn't it?" Claire asked, her voice filled with distress. Her husband was clearly upset with the incident. No. It was well beyond that. She could tell. He may not show it, but he was absolutely enraged by the fact and in no way wanted it to cause any problems for either of them. She could only pray that he wouldn't be completely blinded by his anger and do something rash. He had a habit of that.

"...Something like that," came the vacant response from down the hallway. George had apparently left at some point while Claire was distracted with her own thoughts. She sighed and rubbed her head. Now she was getting a headache.

One week. An entire week-seven whole days-went by and Maxwell _still_ hadn't gotten any more patients. Those incompetent assholes in Memorial weren't good for anything other than something to yell at. It was one of the largest hospitals in the country and they seriously couldn't find any hopeless patients to use? How was he supposed to perfect the toxin if he had no way of testing it? He was beginning to consider using some of them as lab rats. Most of them were already mindless enough as is, who would notice the difference?

Maxwell snarled and slammed a fist on the table. The scientist who had the misfortune of giving him the bad news shrank back and silently prayed that the monstrous man wouldn't take it out on him. Said man was cursing up a storm, furious that he hadn't been able to make any progress. Thinking now would be the best time, the scientist slowly began to back out of the room as if any sudden movements would put him in danger. Maxwell had been very aggressive the past week, even going as far as strangling one scientist for interrupting him while he was reworking his formula and nearly stabbing another in the throat with a needle out of pure frustration.

"Dammit! I can't believe there are no patients to use! Surely you useless shits can find someone they wouldn't miss!" As if sensing the other man's retreat Maxwell whirled around and locked eyes with him. He looked like a frightened puppy: wide eyed, cowering, and completely and utterly helpless against the beast standing in front of him. "Were you leaving?" The poor man was frozen on the spot, held in place by Maxwell's gaze. The man had always been terrifying but recently...

"Mr. Maxwell..."

"What?!" Both scientists flinched. Now that he wasn't the direct target of Maxwell's fury, the first one scurried out the room for dear life and left the second to fend for himself.

"Uh... I have-"

"It had better be something of actual importance." The 'Or else' wasn't necessary. Everyone who worked with Maxwell knew of his dark side and what would happen to them if they were to see it. It was because of that that this scientist had nearly had about three heart attacks. He couldn't have picked a worse time to walk in. Thankfully, he really did have something important. And it just might make Maxwell happy. Or at the very least put him in a better mood.

"Well, there's been an accident. Just like you wanted," he added quickly upon seeing his eyes flash. "Memorial has another thirty or so new patients. We can't use all of them because that would be suspicious, but there's a good number we can get from 'em. Dr. Kaplan's already working on it." He stopped worrying for his safety once he saw the smile spread across Maxwell's face. It was a horrid smile and any human being who made such a face should surely be locked away for eternity, but he smiled too. Maxwell was far from a normal human being and by now his co-workers were used to it. Almost.

"I'm glad you've finally managed to do something right," he said, now completely calm and showing no signs of ever being angry in the first place. "Could you do me a favor and prep the lab?"

"B-but the patients aren't coming until-"

"Just do it." Any objections he may have given were silenced as Maxwell strode past him and down the hallway. This man was a monster. The scientist felt the guilt well up inside him the second his 'boss's' form disappeared. Torturing people, making threats, kidnapping, murder... He was doing just about every possible crime against humanity and had forced others into it as well. Nearly every scientist at Memorial Pharmaceuticals was involved and even a few at the hospital. There was nowhere for anyone to go without suffering at the hands of George Maxwell. Just look at Allen Hale and Philip Tate. The scientist shuddered at the thought. One was turned into a scapegoat and forced out of his job and the other... Well, truth be told he had no idea what was going on with Tate. The only clue he had was the haunted look in his eyes whenever he saw him. Whatever it was, he didn't want to know. There was no escape other than death, and a few poor souls had actually gone so far. Maxwell's reaction? Use their lifeless corpses as test subjects. It was sickening how he had no boundaries.

Giving a shudder he went to go fulfill Maxwell's wishes before he was on the receiving end of his wrath. Although he couldn't help but hope and pray that someone would save them even if it meant more deaths. And that he would finally be able to sleep at night.

* * *

 **A/N: This took me a while but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Next chapter will hopefully come out sometime next week. Maybe. I will try. Anyways, I hope it was good.**


	5. Chapter 5

It had taken quite some time for Allen's plan to begin working. At first, there weren't many changes, but as time went on things slowly went downhill for Maxwell. He was getting sloppy. As his experiments progressed so did his formula and eventually it finally started getting him some results. However, he had a few close calls with some doctors at the hospital and even one with the police. The disappearing patients weren't few and far between anymore. It was happening nearly every other week. One doctor at Memorial had made the very foolish mistake of heading over to the lab to speak with Philip Tate about the matter once one of his own patients vanished.

It wasn't long after the one-sided discussion began that George Maxwell emerged from a door to the right of Philip's desk. The doctor stopped his rant the moment he laid eyes on Maxwell and Philip swore he had a stroke. Standing before them was not the renowned and refined man who had appeared at Memorial Pharmaceuticals eight years ago and given them so many amazing advancements. Instead there was a disgruntled mess wearing black gloves and a lab coat that was completely covered in blood splatter. Flecks of blood were also visible on his face and in his matted hair. Philip nearly gagged in horror and the doctor had turned white as a sheet. Whatever Maxwell was doing, things had clearly gotten messy.

"Tate..." Maxwell looked over at the man in question and saw that he was on the verge of either running in terror or flat out fainting. He then directed his gaze over to the doctor. "Was this man concerned with something?" His eyes and voice were cold and held no emotion save for the slightest hint of annoyance.

"T-that's Doctor Kohl," Philip said dumbly. He was still in shock from Maxwell's appearance. The bloodied man shot him a disapproving look, as though he was scolding a child for making up poor excuses for why his hand was in the cookie jar.

"Y-you're... Blood... Y-you're completely c-covered with it!" Dr. Kohl took a shaky step back. Surely it couldn't have been Maxwell who was behind all the disappearances and deaths. He didn't want to believe any of it, even though all the proof he needed was directly in front of him.

"I know..." he stated slowly. He took a step toward the doctor who gasped and quickly spun to face the door but was a second too late as a painfully tight grip caught his arm. Maxwell's hold continued to tighten until Kohl was certain his arm would break. He fell to his knees and wanted to cry in relief once he felt the appendage drop next to him. His relief quickly evaporated once he realized that the other man was still looming over him. Overtaken by fear again he pushed himself up and to the door in one swift movement but froze once he felt a gun jabbed directly into his spine.

"Ah-! You wouldn't!" Dr. Kohl's voice was partially muffled due to being shoved up against the wooden door of Philip's office. He felt the gun dig deeper into his back and heard Maxwell chuckle quietly.

"Why not?" he asked.

"People will hear the gunshot."

"And? All that does is prove they aren't deaf."

Kohl was going to respond when he suddenly realized why it didn't matter. "You bastard," he said as the gun was pushed even deeper. Maxwell's face split into a murderous grin as the doctor ground his teeth and tried to break free. He released him and when he was fairly recovered he pistol-whipped him full force across the face. Kohl hit the ground and was met with a swift kick to the jaw. Maxwell holstered the gun and kicked him again.

Philip, who had been standing there staring the entire time, desperately wanted to stop it. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to rush in and attack Maxwell. Snatch the gun, punch him, tackle him, anything at all that would mean no more deaths. However, that simply wasn't possible whenever George Maxwell was involved. The man could be an absolute beast if he wanted to be and there was no stopping him once he was on a rampage. You either moved and watched him go by, or held your ground and wound up decimated. In any case, it wasn't fun to deal with.

"Now do you see?" Maxwell asked in a calm voice. Dr. Kohl attempted to glare at him from his spot on the floor, but the room was spinning and shifting and he was seeing so many Maxwells he wasn't sure which to aim it at.

"M-Maxwell..." The man stopped tormenting the doctor to address Philip who nearly choked once he was given the attention.

"Yes?" His demeanor became monotonous once more and the empty look returned to his eyes. Looking at Maxwell now, Philip Tate saw why Allen had been so interested in finding out if his personality was changing. But was this the change he had been expecting? A sick and soulless individual with even worse morals than before and no concerns for other life? If so then why hadn't he warned him? Or better yet, why was there even supposed to be a change? Surely the digging up of the Maxwell Grave alone couldn't have caused this. Not unless...

"What is it, Tate?" The harshness of Maxwell's voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he quickly responded.

"Is this... necessary?" He meant to sound more certain, more firm, but his voice came out in a slight whisper.

Maxwell's eyes widened ever so slightly and for the briefest of moments he looked as though he had no idea how to answer. The look passed just as quickly as it came though, and he set his sights back on the doctor who had managed to prop himself up against the wall. When he noticed Maxwell looking at him he promptly spat a wad of bloodied spit at his shoes, to which Maxwell smirked.

"Of course it is," he said, still looking down on the man in front of him. Philip wanted to hit himself. Why would he ask such a question? What he really wanted to do was scream at him to stop this now and then incapacitate him and call the police before watching them cart him off to where he'd get the death sentence. That was what he imagined but deep down he knew that he'd never be able to do that. He was much too old and was physically no match for the other man. All he could do was pray he'd be forgiven for his silence.

"What's the matter, Tate?" Philip looked at Maxwell in surprise that he'd been spoken to without having to address him first. "You seem distressed." It might have been his imagination-and he desperately hoped it was-but he thought that Maxwell's voice lowered for just a second. Despite speaking to him, he hadn't even turned to look at him and yet somehow he knew how he was feeling. He was beginning to think that maybe the scent of fear was real.

"I-"

"Is it because I'm abusing this poor man?" he asked with mock concern. "Perhaps it is a bit harsh. After all, he was only concerned about his patient's whereabouts. Isn't that right, Doctor?" Dr. Kohl tried to back further into the wall as Maxwell reached down and grabbed him by the collar. He lifted him with ease and brought his face closer so that he could easily see the fear racing through his eyes.

"Let me go!" Kohl brought his arm back and launched his fist directly into Maxwell's face. The man's head instantly snapped back and he flinched slightly, but he did not let go. Instead he lifted his head back up and cracked his neck before wiping the blood off his face with his free hand. He then preceded to repeatedly punch the doctor in the face. Philip merely watched in a mixture of guilt and terror as each punch hit its mark. At some point he heard a sickening crunch and watched as the blood ran down Kohl's face onto his clothes and the floor.

Maxwell, now seemingly satisfied, dropped the man. Philip said nothing as he stared at the limp form. He knew it was horrible and selfish, but he couldn't help but be thankful that it wasn't him.

"How easy do you think it'll be to avoid any suspicion if this man were to go missing?" Maxwell asked calmly, almost cheerily. Philip didn't know how to respond. First he comes in looking like a deranged surgeon, then he brutally beats a man, and now he's acting like they're planning an outing. He might as well have asked who was going to be in charge of sandwiches for a Memorial Pharmaceuticals staff picnic. "It'll be very difficult, yes." He must have gotten sick of waiting for a response.

"W... what?" It was the only thing Philip could manage at the moment.

"I have a job for you, Tate," Maxwell said sternly as he hefted the doctor off the ground and slung him over his shoulder. "Keep the police out of this." He then walked past him and headed the way he came all the while muttering something about parasites and formulas. That night saw Philip Tate trying to figure out every way of keeping the police out of Maxwell's business. Things were getting increasingly difficult though, thanks to one Detective Alex Corey. The guy had been trying to get into the lab to do some investigating ever since the frequencies of missing patients increased. They've managed to slip past for the most part, but now that a doctor's gone missing...

"How can I possibly keep this up?" Philip groaned and rubbed his temples. It was impossible to keep anyone from investigating. Doctor Kohl was last seen at Memorial Pharmaceuticals Research Lab and it was on the matter of a missing patient. If that wasn't already enough grounds for a full-fledged investigation, then there's also the fact that refusing any police admission would only make them seem even more suspicious. At this point he wasn't sure what would be worse: life in prison or Maxwell's wrath.

He glanced at the clock on his wall and let out a long sigh. It was 3:15 AM. Another night wasted at Memorial thanks to Maxwell's orders. Now he had to add making up an excuse for his family to his to-do list. Things couldn't be any worse.

 _ **Beep**_

 _ **Click**_

Philip started when he heard the lock release. He looked over at the door by his desk and saw Maxwell emerge from it. Fortunately, he had gotten rid of the bloodstained lab coat and had cleaned himself up. If he hadn't been there to witness the event earlier he never would have believed the other man would do such a thing. He seemed positively normal right now, to the point where Philip was starting to wonder if the whole occurrence earlier had been nothing but an awful dream his overworked brain conjured up. Just as he was on the verge of tricking himself into believing it Maxwell smiled. It was the same sickening smile he often wore when he had achieved something in his own interests.

"I just made a breakthrough," he said, still smiling. "I think I've finally gotten it right. I just have to run a few more tests to be certain though..." He trailed off as he looked at the clock. Glancing back at Philip he added, "I'm off," before swiftly making his way to the door.

Though he knew he'd regret it, he stopped Maxwell. "What about... Doctor Kohl?"

The other man pursed his lips as if thinking of a viable answer. When none came he simply shrugged and looked blankly at Philip. "What about him?" That was it.

"Dammit! Don't play dumb! You know exactly what I'm asking!" Philip slammed his hands on his desk and stood up before quickly backing down. His outburst could cost him and his family their lives.

Maxwell smiled slightly at the pained man in front of him. Tate wanted to stand up and put an end to this but didn't have the guts to do so. He was too frightened of what could happen. Pathetic really. Although he didn't know how lucky he was to still be alive. He would've been dead ages ago had it not been for Hale.

Maxwell inwardly snarled at the name. Just the thought of that man pissed him off. He knew that Allen Hale and Philip Tate were still in contact; had known for some time now. He'd seen Philip re-entering Allen Hale into the security scanner of his office and had even tailed him once, just to be certain. Those two had met at what they thought was a secure location. If only they knew how wrong they were. He kept tabs on everyone in the event that someone thought it smart to go against him. Given Tate's personality though, it was most likely Allen who had initiated contact and it was probably his idea to dig up his children. Whether or not Tate helped didn't matter, although he was most certain that he did. They were both going to suffer severely for that, starting with Philip. Maxwell still wasn't certain what to do to Hale. He'd already lost his job, his family, and his reputation. What more was there? Oh well. He could figure it out later. Heck, maybe him just making progress with the Cerebral Toxin was enough torture for him. It was one of the only logical reasons he could think of for why he'd be keeping in touch with Tate. Either that, or there was something that he overlooked.

"Well... What do you think happened to him?" Maxwell asked, a sadistic smile forming on his face. Philip gulped and paled. There was nothing Maxwell enjoyed more than tormenting people. This man especially. It always gave him great pleasure to see the horrified faces people could make and watch all the emotions flash through their eyes in a matter of seconds. Philip was no different save for the fact that he was the easiest of all to scare. And he could have some of the most amusing reactions if pushed enough.

"Well?" he pressured. He was hoping for a reaction.

"U-um..." Philip took a shaky breath to steady himself. Maxwell was always a frightening man and as time went on it almost seemed to get worse. Philip heard all sorts of horror stories from the other scientists whenever they were certain the man wasn't listening. There were even a few who were 'fired', although not by him. Despite all this, nothing had ever really happened to him outside of threats. As a matter of fact, every time he spoke with the raven-haired man he always seemed to be polite. When he wasn't angry over something, at least.

Looking at Maxwell's sinister smile now and after seeing him earlier Philip suddenly felt the slightest twinge of betrayal and a lot of anger. That man had kept his darker intentions deliberately hidden specifically so that he could force him to do his bidding. That had to be it. It did explain the sudden change in his behavior. Now that he'd gotten Philip so deeply involved with his crimes there was no need for him to hide anything anymore. It was far too late for him to go to the cops and even if he tried Maxwell was sure to find a way to pin it all on him. He did with Allen.

 _I can't believe I was such a fool,_ he thought.

Maxwell let out a brief laugh as the last emotion that floated through Philip's eyes was utter sadness. Before the other man could say a word he left the office, all the while smiling at how easy it was to tear people down.

Philip let out a long sigh and decided it would be best to head home and get some sleep. He wasn't making any progress with lies for the police and he couldn't stay there for two whole days without freaking out his family. So he straightened out his desk, threw on his coat, and left the office. As he was walking to his car he couldn't help but shiver at a thought he just had. It might be best if he cut all ties with Allen.

* * *

 **A/N: Okay so now I'm starting to get closer to the actual events of the game. I hope that these time skips aren't getting confusing or anything, and if there's something you don't get then just ask me and I'll do my best to explain. It'll be another chapter-possibly two (maybe)-before I get to the game's events but I hope the backstory for before makes sense and that the characters don't seem too OC.**


	6. Chapter 6

It was evening at the Tate residence and everyone was somewhere around the house doing their own thing and enjoying themselves. Except for one very paranoid and fearful man. "Please, Allen! You must listen to me!" Philip shouted. He then lowered his voice once he remembered where he was. Quietly he went over to the door of his and Katheryn's bedroom and peeked out to see if he had attracted anyone's attention. To his relief no one seemed to have heard. He shut the door and continued his somewhat one-sided phone conversation with Hale.

"The man's psychotic, Allen," he went on more calmly. "He's absolutely insane. Is that what you meant to happen?"

"I didn't mean for anything to happen," Allen responded. "Maxwell was never right in the head. I thought you knew that."

"This still can't be him."

"What makes you so sure? Maybe he was always this deranged. You remember what I discovered so long ago don't you? Not to mention everything he's put you through, the experiments, and, of course, his children. Clearly he's-"

"Dammit, Hale, don't be so... so..." Philip sighed in frustration at his loss for words. "Easygoing," was the best he could come up with. "You kept asking me about Maxwell's behavior, so don't act like you had nothing to do with this."

"I'm not acting. I haven't stepped foot in Memorial for over eight years. What could I have possibly done to him?" Allen smiled to himself as he listened to Philip's mumbled complaints from the other end of the line. He was so easily fooled, it was no wonder Maxwell bothered to keep him around. After all, it would be incredibly easy to go about one's own agenda when they could easily trick those around them. Although by the sound of it he was no longer kept so far in the dark.

"You can lie to me all you want but I won't believe any of it. I _know_ you've got something to do with all this." For a while there was nothing on the other end but faint static. Then, just as Philip was about to say something, light laughter sounded from the phone.

"Alright," Allen said, still chuckling softly. "I'll tell you something."

"What?" Philip asked, suddenly fearful of the answer.

 _Right into my trap,_ Allen thought with a smile. "The Curse."

"C-curse?"

"The Maxwell Curse. Don't tell me you've forgotten."

"Of course I haven't forgotten. What about the curse?" Philip already knew where this was going but he asked anyway.

"That must be the cause. It's the only logical conclusion for Maxwell's behavior, isn't it?"

"But if it's the curse then that means..." Philip paused to take an unsteady breath. "Anyone involved with the Maxwells will fall prey to the curse as well. You don't think-"

"That we're cursed? I doubt that. Unless, of course, something unfortunate has happened to you. However, even if something has, there's no proof. After all, I still think it's all a hoax." Allen had to bite back a laugh. Philip could be such an idiot. _What a superstitious fool,_ he thought. It wasn't very difficult to lead him along.

"The statue," he said, glancing at the door as though it would be there.

"I've told you before: the statue doesn't have anything to do with the Maxwells' magic."

"Then what was it doing buried?" Philip was on the verge of freaking out. If Maxwell's insanity really was caused by the Maxwell Curse then that meant that it was all true. Everything about the Maxwells was real, including their powers. What if Maxwell decided to use them?

 _ **Knock Knock Knock**_

"Hey, dad, you in there?" Michael was right outside the door and he sounded impatient.

"Just a moment!" Philip called. He then lowered his voice to a whisper and cupped his hand around the phone's mouthpiece to speak to Allen. "I'll call you later, Allen, and we WILL discuss this curse business. Do you understand?"

"Oh yes. Completely," came the mildly sarcastic response. Allen then hung up.

Philip set the phone down and went to open the door. "Do you need something, Michael?" he asked, although once he saw the papers in his son's hands he already knew the problem. "Math homework?"

"Yeah. I kinda need some help with these problems." Although his son hated to admit it, he was never very good with math. Despite this, however, he wanted to try something in engineering, or anything science-related really. He liked cars and videogames and did have some respect for what his father did, so it was only natural that he'd want to try to look at the different aspects of how they worked. Philip often laughed about it, but in an amused fatherly way. He found it kind of adorable how someone as young as him could decide so soon on what they wanted to be. He also had to admit: Michael may not be good at it yet, but he was more than determined to overcome the hurdles and blocks that came with life and was often hard at work trying to progress his understanding of math and science. It impressed both him and Kathryn.

"Alright, son," Philip said with a warm smile. "Let's go to the table where we'll have more space for all that stuff." He wasn't really in a great mood after his talk with Allen, but some time with family should be enough to bring his spirits up.

Allen hung up and slammed the phone on the receiver. Who did Philip think he was, talking to him in such a way? The man surely wasn't above him so he had no right to order him around like that.

Okay, so maybe his methods were a bit unorthodox but even so, he was a far better human being than Philip. After all, he was still assisting Maxwell with those horrific experiments of his. And why? Because he was too damn afraid to take matters into his own hands. At least _he_ was doing something about the situation. Philip was doing nothing more than being a lapdog, a mindless and spineless soldier for Maxwell to have doing his dirty work.

Thinking more on that, Allen couldn't help but wonder. Hadn't he realized it yet? That he was nothing more than a tool and the moment Maxwell no longer needed him-or even more likely, the moment he _broke_ -he'd be thrown away? Discarded like all the others Maxwell had no need for. How could Philip possibly miss that? He's surely seen it happen to countless others. The scientists who screwed up, got in the way, or just didn't support him were all 'fired.' The doctors who questioned things a little too closely had it kindly 'explained' to them in one of the labs. The patients seen as unimportant and tagged as 'Won't Be Missed.' Who knows, even police might not be safe at this point. Philip would be no exception. Maxwell would consider the man useless once his morals finally caught up with him and he too, like all the others, would be 'relieved' of his position. Maxwell would then have some other loyal lackey fill the spot and that would be that. Done. No more Philip Tate, or any Tate for that matter. They'd all be murdered, no doubt, and all so that monster could keep his secret plan in motion.

Allen cursed himself for still not knowing Maxwell's true intentions. He could just be highly genocidal, but for a man as intelligent as he was that didn't seem likely. Why go through all the trouble when he could've just worked up a simple formula for chemical bombs or something? He had the money, time, brains, and the mood for it. He seemed like the type of man with the mentality of pure hate and disgust toward fellow human beings. He'd gotten that impression from his eerie demeanor and his habit of talking down to people as though they were absolute scum. _Even his superiors,_ Allen thought angrily, remembering his time at Memorial during Maxwell's early days.

"Dad...?"

Allen whipped his head to the side and saw Alyssa standing there, looking very uncomfortable. Although slightly annoyed with the interruption of his dark thoughts Allen couldn't fight the loving father in him. "What's wrong, Alyssa?" he asked, leaning down in the chair so he could meet her eyes.

She looked down and scuffed her feet on the floor, trying to think of what she had originally sought him out for. She'd come into his room to ask him something but when she saw the look on his face, something just... flipped. She couldn't get rid of the knot in her stomach or the tightness of her throat and somewhere in the back of her mind she felt a faint shift from Bates. Almost as if he were trying to console her for some reason. She wasn't sure though, the amulet blocked him out.

"Alyssa? Are you okay? You're not feeling sick, are you?" He reached an arm out for her forehead but she flinched back before looking away in shame that she'd done that. The sick feeling she had right now was no illness, her instincts told her. There was something... different... about it. It was a feeling she felt only occasionally but the causes frightened her. Bates always said she was special, and as such could sense special things, like the time she took a different route home from school and passed a house. It wasn't abandoned and was actually kept up quite well, with kids running and playing-some of which she knew-and parents watching with amusement in their eyes. Except for one. One of the fathers, while he smiled outwardly, hid something deep within his eyes. As she passed she met them, and couldn't help but shiver. He raised his arm in a friendly wave but even then there was still that off look. There was a darkness in those eyes, something she wasn't sure if anyone else could see. But _she_ saw it, and did not like the feeling it gave her. It was similar to the one now, like something bad was going to happen. The next day at school as she passed the office she heard some of the adults quietly talking about the death of a family. The father had killed them and then committed suicide. She threw up.

"I, um, forgot what I wanted, Daddy. Sorry," she spoke just above a whisper and Allen had to strain a bit to hear her.

"Okay... Are you sure you're feeling well? You look a little pale." He was deeply worried but was trying not to show it too much. He didn't want to make her panic. Still, it was very unlike his daughter to fall so silent in front of him. Had they been out in public this would have been completely normal. She was a very shy girl and didn't do well with strangers. In their own home, however, she was usually much more outgoing. Unless...

"You haven't been talking to Bates again, have you? You know you're not supposed to do that," he said sternly.

"Daddy no! I was just-It's nothing, never mind." She raised her voice defensively before bringing it back down. She didn't want to make her father angry.

"No, go on." He wanted to see where this was going. Something told him she was lying and he wouldn't stand for that.

"I said I forgot," she tried.

"Then why tell me it was nothing?" Allen leant back in the chair and crossed his arms, all the while keeping his gaze locked on Alyssa. She'd tell him sooner or later.

"I don't know..." she whined. The feeling was turning into nausea and she was starting to feel faint. She pulled the amulet out of her pocket and held it in her hands with the hope that it would make her feel better.

Allen saw her gripping the amulet tightly and suddenly became worried that Bates may be trying to find a way out. Immediately he stood up-a movement so quick that it startled poor Alyssa-and walked briskly over to her before kneeling down and bringing her in for a hug. Alyssa said nothing, too surprised at her father's sudden change in mood. She slowly brought her arms around his neck, still helplessly lost but not at all complaining about his lack of anger. Eventually she started to feel a bit better, and it was around that time that he let her go.

"I'm sorry I got angry with you," he said. "You just had me worried there with how you were acting." He adjusted his glasses and remained slightly above her eye level, kneeling on one knee with his arm resting on the other.

"I'm sorry I made you worried, Daddy, but I honestly did forget." She looked at him, hoping he'd accept her apology. He did, but he still didn't seem convinced.

"I don't suppose you remember now?" Alyssa thought a moment before shaking her head. He sighed lightly before standing up. "It's alright if you don't. You can let me know once you do remember." He ruffled her hair before sitting back down in his chair. She nodded and left, glad to be out of that situation.

As she was making her way to her room, Alyssa felt the slight pull of Bates's presence. He clearly had something he wanted to let out. Sighing, she stopped and listened to make sure her dad wasn't walking out his room and then went into the bathroom. Following her usual routine for her conversations with Bates she watched the reflection in the mirror and waited for him to start blurting out his usual nonsense.

He didn't. She could clearly see him, and he her, but he remained unnervingly silent. At first she thought that maybe she'd been wrong, that he didn't want to talk, but then remembered how the amulet kept blocking him out before. She looked at it in her hands. Setting it down might cause Bates to take over. What if he did something awful again? She shook her head and glanced into the mirror. He looked impatient, not violent. Pissed off was his default expression after all. Slowly she brought the amulet up to the counter and, giving it a worried look, placed it next to the sink. Bates immediately started up.

 _ **"You aren't trying to deny the fact that you got a bad feeling from 'daddy dearest,' are you?"**_ He said it with such a repulsive face that she scrunched up her own in response.

"I didn't say anything about that feeling," she said quietly, fearful that her father would hear.

 _ **"You didn't have to. I am a part of you, you know. I can sense your emotions."**_

"I don't suppose you know anything about it?"

 _ **"Hm."**_ Bates uncharacteristically froze. Here was very dangerous terrain and he had to tread lightly. If he didn't choose his words carefully-something he hated doing because people didn't need things sugarcoated, it made them gullible-Alyssa may never forgive him and might not even listen to him anymore. She didn't know it, but she was more than capable of blocking him out. The amulet was nothing more than a worthless trinket some crazy old loon in a shrine passed on for a few bucks. Even Hale himself had to know that it held no mystical powers, nor did it have the ability to block him out. It all depended on Alyssa's current mental state. If she panicked, he could let himself out. If she remained completely calm and in control of her emotions, then he was powerless.

If there was anything Bates both hated and admired in people, it was the fact that they could be unbelievably strong and fragile at the same time. Alyssa, like many others, has a strong will. Combine that with her still-dormant ability to work with the supernatural, and you've got a pretty unstoppable force. Bates could sense the power in her despite it still being weak. She had potential, but he wouldn't tell her that. Nor would he tell her that the amulet's power was all in her head. It might shatter her to know it was all a lie. Imagination could be quite powerful, especially for a daydreamer like Alyssa. She could easily delude herself into thinking that the amulet was magic, that it was something special that would protect her from the forces of evil. It pissed Bates off because if she kept believing that nonsense then she'd end up like their father. Their _real_ father. She'd carry the stupid thing around all her life thinking it would keep her safe, eventually finding out too late that it all depended on her.

He suddenly got an idea.

 _ **"I do know something about it, Alyssa,"**_ he said, trying his best not to sound suspicious. **_"I'll tell you about it, but first I need a favor."_**

"A favor?" she asked. This was new. Normally he just told her to let him out for a bit so he could 'stretch his legs.' He'd never asked anything of her before. "What kind of favor? I hope it isn't something bad."

 ** _"Of course not."_** He tried a friendly smile, but upon seeing her eyes widen in shock he switched back to his usual scowl. _**"All I need you to do is let me take over for a bit."**_

"No!" She hadn't meant to shout and her father had surely heard her but she couldn't believe Bates. "You'll try to hurt Daddy again..." She was beginning to tear up. Allen _had_ heard her and was already rushing in her direction. He'd be so angry with her for talking with Bates. Hopefully he wouldn't ground her again because she hated having to stay in her room away from him when he was already gone so much.

"Alyssa?!" he shouted, quickly nearing the small bathroom.

"I'm fine!" She tried to sound calm but she was crying and panicking and he was almost there. He was going to be so angry with her. Suddenly a dark presence clouded in her mind. Realizing too late that Bates would take this perfect opportunity to gain control she reached for the amulet only for her arm to stop stiffly where it was. Not even an inch away from the small item. She blacked out just as Allen made it to the doorway.

"Alyssa! Are you alright?!" He saw the amulet lying on the counter and figured out what was happening. "Alyssa Hale," he started, knowing the use of her full name would tell her just how much trouble she was in. "What have I told you about talking to Bates?" He practically hissed it. The fact that such a presence could ever even exist infuriated him. But within his own daughter? Why did it have to be that way? Bates was possibly a bigger threat to his life than Maxwell. "You _know_ he's dangerous." Allen stood dauntingly in the narrow doorway waiting for Alyssa to respond.

 **"But Daddy, he's just so kind to me sometimes,"** Bates said, trying-and failing-to imitate Alyssa's voice.

Allen's face took on a look of complete horror. He'd come too late. He took a step back and subconsciously brought his arm to the injury he last sustained from his daughter's second personality.

Bates chuckled, the sound rumbling from Alyssa's chest and throat in an unnatural manner. There was nothing more disturbing than the sight of Alyssa's sweet face contorted into one Bates would make and the sound of his deep voice resonating from her vocal chords. **"What's the matter?"** he purred. **"Scared I'm gonna hurt you again? I just might."**

"What do you want?" Despite his fear Allen was still quick to express his disgust to Bates, even when it was the constant cause of any injury given to him by the darker persona.

 **"Watch it, Hale. Your smart ass mouth might be the death of you one day."** He wasn't kidding. Bates hated the man in front of him with such passion that he rivaled even Maxwell's determination. One didn't have to think hard to find where that sort of personality came from. **"How dare you,"** he growled suddenly.

"What?" Allen narrowed his eyes. "What reason do you have to be angry with me?" At this Bates laughed. It was a horrid, bone-chilling sound that echoed off the walls and directly into the former scientist's spine.

 **"A better question might be why I _wouldn't_ be angry with you. After all the shit you've done it's a damn miracle I haven't killed you yet. If it weren't for Alyssa's incessant pleading you'd have been dead from the very beginning." **He briefly glanced at the mirror as he said this. Fixing his gaze back on Allen he continued. **"I have to say: you're real slick, tricking everyone like this. It'll get you far but it'll also be your downfall, old man. Nice touch with the amulet though,"** he added, gesturing to the item still lying on the counter.

"What do you mean, 'nice touch?' That amulet-"

 **"Is a piece of shit and you know it,"** he said harshly, without adding any of his smart remarks. He was hoping that would show just how serious he was.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Allen crossed his arms and glared. Bates simply smirked and shook his head. To him, Hale was acting like a complete child. He still couldn't understand how Alyssa became so attached to this man.

 **"Don't play stupid. If you keep this up I might have to stab you until you talk."** His eyes lit up at the thought.

Allen was going to keep arguing but decided that it wasn't worth it. Bates-surprisingly-was a good keeper of his word and would no doubt try to lodge the nearest blunt object into his skull if he didn't relent. "Fine," he huffed. "So what if the amulet's fake? It doesn't change a single thing about this whole situation." He was actually still trying to figure out why it mattered.

 **"Actually, dumbass, it does. And it changes way more than just this. If you keep lying to Alyssa-"**

"I'm not lying to her about anything!" Allen quickly caught his breath and looked at Bates to see he was none too happy about being cut off like that.

In reality, Bates was outraged by the fact that Hale was acting like he was being totally honest with Alyssa. Who was he trying to fool here? **"Just what are you going on about, you bastard? Did you really just say that you weren't lying? HA! That's funny."** He began to take menacing steps towards Allen, who was already backing away into the hall.

"Get away from me," he said. It was almost comical, the way he was taking calculated steps away from an eight-year-old girl. What made it frightening was the fact that the person he was dealing with was no girl, and likely no child either. It was something monstrous possessing that little girl.

Bates quickened his pace causing Allen to flat-out flee and lock himself in his room. Normally he wouldn't have done that. Bates, despite all his talk, wasn't much of a threat. Sure, give him a knife or a gun or even a fork and you're screwed, but by himself he couldn't do much damage. What scared Allen so much was how he was acting. Most of the time it was death threat then swearing, followed by more threats and swearing, but this time was different. The tone of his voice and the look in his eyes was something that said this was no 'casual Bates talk.' This was something truly infuriating to him, and possibly even personal. If that were true then Bates may actually kill him this time unless he could manage to talk his way out of it.

 **"Open the door, Hale, we aren't finished here yet."** This was followed by sharp banging against the wooden door.

"I've got nothing left to say to you, now leave my daughter alone!" He was against the opposite wall watching the door intently for the first sign of it being forced open.

 ** _"Your_ ****daughter? Last time I checked you didn't fucking conceive her, Hale. The only thing you've done is lie to her so you could play vendetta!"** He was getting increasingly pissed and Allen was beginning to worry he wouldn't get out of this one alive. **"You lie to her about her family," _BANG!_ "You lie to her about yourself," _BANG!_ "You lie to her about me," _BANG!_ "And you even lie to her about herself!" **The door continued to shake in its frame with each pound after that. Allen could feel himself beginning to sweat. If Bates did break the door down then he was as good as dead. He couldn't fight back, not with the knowledge that Alyssa was still there somewhere and that he'd be hurting her.

Taking a breath to steady himself Allen tried reasoning. "Okay! I am lying but it's for her own good!" His words were coming out shaky and he didn't like that. It might give Bates more motivation.

Chuckling could be heard from the other side of the door. **"For her own good? Really? Do you even know what'll happen if you keep this up? Sure, you can lie to her about family, I don't give two shits about that one, but you can't keep up this house of BS without something falling apart somewhere. Especially about the amulet. If you keep letting her think that it's magical she'll end up dead you know."**

"Dead how? I don't believe you." He couldn't help some of the relief he felt now that Bates seemed to cool off some. Still, he wasn't taking any chances. He was staying where he was.

 **"She wouldn't either."**

"You told her?!" He almost ran over to the door and ripped it off its hinges just to see if Bates's expression gave anything away.

 **"No,"** he said after a few moments. **"And** **I have no intention to. She NEEDS to know, but not from me. If I tell her she'll just think I'm lying."** The truth was he was worried she'd hate him forever if he ever broke her trust in Hale. She had no one else and, despite all his hate and disgust for the man cowering in his room right now, he was only ever kept back by the thought of poor Alyssa being all alone in the world (although that small margin of safety Hale had was progressively getting thinner). He couldn't take care of her, not the way a physical person could. At least with Hale she had a home, something he'd never be able to provide. All he could do was protect her from physical harm. He doubted his 'talents' would actually get them anywhere good in the world.

He was also curious about where this was all going. He knew Hale had some beef with Maxwell, that much was blaringly obvious unless, of course, you were one Alyssa Hale who just liked to sit around and pretend the world was okay. What Bates couldn't quite grasp was why. Sure, it was all to bring down Maxwell in the end, but why in this particular manner? There was something more that Allen was hiding, the one thing he couldn't figure out. At least not yet.

"If you told her something like that she'd probably just come to me... Why won't you just tell her yourself if you're so concerned?" When he received no answer, Allen cautiously approached the door and opened it. Bates had left at some point while he'd been pondering and he sighed in relief. However, he was still a bit rattled by the unusual display of emotions he'd just seen. It was unlike Bates to throw fits of wild anger like that, and with such ferocity too. Was it really that upsetting to him? Allen couldn't wrap his head around why it would be, but there was one possibility that he hoped wasn't true. If Bates really was Alyssa's twin brother then what in the world is he doing here when he was found dead? And in his sister no less.

Allen shook his head and quietly stepped out of his room and headed down the hall to the bathroom. He needed to check on Alyssa.

Bates glared at the amulet on the counter, knowing full well that Alyssa put more faith into it than nearly anything else. It was both unhealthy and somewhat conventional. Still, he couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth. Not yet. Sighing he picked it up and then receded, allowing Alyssa to regain control and believe that it was the amulet that had done it.

"Alyssa?" Allen stood in the doorway ready to bolt at a moment's notice when she turned and smiled nervously up at him. He exhaled shakily, letting out the previous tension.

"Daddy... are you okay?" she asked quietly. It was obvious something bad had happened but he wasn't bleeding anywhere so maybe she was wrong.

"I'm fine, Sweetie. Are you okay?" She nodded. "Good. Come on, why don't we have some dinner now?" He offered her his hand and she took it, but not without noticing how moist the palms were. Something did happen and he wasn't telling her. Why didn't he ever tell her in times like these?

* * *

 **A/N: This took so long to get done, but now it's finally up. Sorry about the wait. I hope Bates didn't seem out of character but I honestly think that he'd be pretty mad at Allen for all the lies he gives Alyssa. I also think that maybe the amulet is a lie because it just seems a little too convenient and even if it really did block out Bates that doesn't explain why he only ever takes over when something scares her. There's also plenty of other things it doesn't really make clear. She probably just THINKS it helps her because Allen said so and because Bates just simply allows it. Anyway, I hope you liked the chapter, which came out much longer than I anticipated.**


	7. Chapter 7

It was a lovely day. Blue skies, singing birds, and not a cloud in sight. Everything was peaceful. Except for one teenage girl. Alyssa hummed quietly to herself as she walked along the empty street to her new school and tried to ignore her inner turmoil. She wasn't looking forward to this. She had never liked the idea of school. Going to a place so full of people was her worst nightmare. Every time she interacted with someone, even if it was nothing more than a simple 'hello,' something bad always ended up happening. She stopped humming as her chest tightened up at the thought of her last school. All the other students treated her so horribly. They bullied her, told her she was a freak of nature that didn't belong, and some even made death threats. Her father eventually removed her and enrolled her somewhere else. Again. This was the fourth time. And that was only for high school. She was lucky she hadn't been taken from her father yet. Although aside from the new setting, she probably wouldn't notice the difference. He was hardly ever around, always going to 'work' and not spending any time with her, even on the holidays. She was always so lonely.

Alyssa sighed deeply. She wanted to fall to the ground and cry. Her only company was her father, who was never really there, and Bates, whose presence still terrified her. Her alter ego was the cause of all her sufferings at school. He was the reason why she was expelled or had to transfer. Sure, her shyness wasn't helping but if Bates hadn't always been lurking in the shadows ready to leap at a moment's notice then none of this would be happening. He'd always threaten to emerge during school and she'd have to fight him off. This usually resulted in a lot of talking to herself followed by awkward silence and stares. Then there were times when he actually did take over even with the amulet in her possession. Once he had control he usually took the opportunity to attack anyone in his path.

"No! That isn't going to happen anymore," she said to herself. Her father and her had taken tons of extra steps in preparation for her new school. He had the amulet's power strengthened, she practiced meditation and every form of self-control she could think of, and she'd even spoken to Bates and begged him not to ruin this for her. She had been in tears but Bates didn't seem to really care that much. It wasn't until she had collapsed to her knees crying that he began showing the slightest bits of sympathy.

 _ **"Ok, Ok! I'll stay quiet. Just shut your dumbass up already,"**_ he snarled. There was nothing more aggravating for him than staying dormant. It was boring. Sure, he could still see and hear what was happening but that wasn't enough. He wanted to actually _do_ something. Alyssa never did anything exciting and she sure as heck didn't stand up for herself. If there was one thing that genuinely irked him, it was the fact that she would take such shit from those people. It would be so easy for her to just fight them off and make them stop. He tried telling her that but she refused. It was her morals that got in the way. Her stupid, naïve, and pointless morals.

"Bates, please. I don't need this right now." Alyssa had stopped crying and was wiping away the last of her tears.

Bates didn't know what she meant at first but then realized that she may have heard his thoughts. That was the major downside of their arrangement. If one was thinking too strongly on something it sometimes allowed the other to hear. _**"You know it's true. You don't need to take everyone's shit."**_

"What would you know? Your solution is to just kill them all."

 _ **"Well, yeah. How else are you gonna get someone to shut up?"**_ he chuckled.

"Whatever! Just promise me you won't try anything. I'm already labeled a freak, I don't need you to reinforce it. Just for once I'd like things to go my way." Bates laughed. "You know, you're always saying you'll protect me but what'll it mean if I get taken away from my father? He won't be able to help me anymore."

 ** _"Ha! You're still putting so much faith in Hale? As if he really cares. He isn't even your father, Alyssa. I'm more family to you than he is."_**

"You say that like you do know my family," she mumbled. He always seemed to suggest that he might know something about them. Although he was probably just trying to get under her skin.

 _ **"As if you would believe me..."**_ he whispered faintly.

"What?" she asked, startled. She received no answer though. Alyssa often wondered what sort of things Bates kept hidden from her and if the things he did tell her were really the truth. She hadn't wanted to believe it when she was younger but now that she was older it was beginning to make some sense. Well, it was really more of a possibility. There was no reason-at least not one she could think of-for why her father would want to do such horrible things like Bates said.

"Hey! Move!" Someone shoved her roughly from behind and she gasped and stumbled. She had really zoned out there. Already she had made it to her new school and she hadn't even noticed. She spun around to apologize but the person was walking away with two others, muttering rude things about her.

Alyssa sighed again that day and lightly shook her head to clear her thoughts. She had to keep herself together. She hadn't even made it into the building and she was already leaving bad impressions. Steeling herself, she fished in her pocket for the amulet and gripped it tightly before taking a breath and making her way inside. As she walked through the halls to the principal's office people gave her strange looks. Eventually she heard whispers about her and everyone soon began glaring at her as she passed. Despite the change in schools everything was still the same. By now nearly everyone had heard of her and her 'insanity.' She didn't need to stay there for the whole day because she already knew what was coming. They'd hate her, think she was a possessed freak. She could see it perfectly. Spiteful faces would surround her and horrible insults would assault her from all sides.

"Freak!"

"Demon! Get lost!"

"We don't want you here!"

It would all be the same. Unfortunately, her father wouldn't be coming to her rescue anytime soon. He was, as usual, too busy to help her with any of her problems. She reached the principal's office and knocked.

"Come in," said a muffled voice. Alyssa did so and sat in the chair he gestured to. She honestly wasn't sure why she had to come here. She could've just gotten her schedule from the counselor and been on her way. Speaking of the counselor, what was she doing there? She'd only been in the school for roughly ten minutes and she was already getting a bad feeling.

"Alyssa Hale?" the principal asked.

"Yes." She didn't like this.

He gave a nervous cough before continuing. "My name is Mr. Green. As I'm sure you're aware I'm the principal here. This is the guidance counselor, Mrs. Flynn."

Mrs. Flynn nodded and offered a light smile. "You're probably wondering why you're here, Miss Hale," she said.

"Um, yes..." Alyssa tried to swallow the lump in her throat. She had a pretty good feeling where this was going.

"Listen," Mrs. Flynn continued. "You aren't in any trouble or anything. We just wanted to make sure you could easily adjust to this school. We know how difficult changes can be and..." She trailed off, trying to think of the right words.

"Since you've had to switch schools so much getting used to them is probably still a new experience to you." Mr. Green picked up where Mrs. Flynn had left off. "You were only at your last school for a week."

"It's only natural that we help you adjust to the way things work around here." They were both smiling at her, but Alyssa still felt uncomfortable. Their faces held the sort of false and uneasy kindness you'd give someone you didn't particularly care for and didn't feel like fighting with.

"Is this about... what happened at my other schools?" There was no way Alyssa could hide her worry. She had a pretty good hunch that this was all about Bates. Well, in their eyes it was more likely to be about that 'condition' of hers or 'split personality' or whatever term they came up with for it.

Mr. Green and Mrs. Flynn shared a look before he started talking. "We aren't going to lecture you on your, erm, problems," he said as kindly as possible. Despite this Alyssa still felt a pang of hurt. Calling Bates a mental disorder was somehow much less insulting than referring to him as a 'problem.' Even though it was a more accurate term and he was nothing but trouble it still bothered her deeply that the principal had used such a word in describing him. In describing _her._ It just didn't sit right.

"I don't know if I'd really call it a problem..." she chuckled nervously. She was only trying to clear the air, not open up a new can of worms. The somewhat troubled looks the two adults gave each other unsettled her even more than what she already was. "Is something the matter?" she tried.

"Um..." Mrs. Flynn clearly had something she wanted to say, but she was either too afraid or didn't know how to word it. Finally she said, "Miss Hale. Your last schools have listed that you've been a very... concerning student. You've gotten into plenty of fights and have actually hospitalized a few students. From the information we have here this was all due to your, uh, second personality?"

"Bates," Alyssa sighed. "I'm not crazy or anything. Honest. It's just that sometimes..." She trailed off because there were no words to describe her situation. No one would believe it anyway. Not even her own father could fully grasp the truth or reasons behind it. Maybe there was nothing to it but the fact that she really was insane and everyone had been right about her. Crazy people don't know they're crazy, right? "I'll be fine," she said meekly. She wanted nothing more than to be out of this office and in her new classroom. "I promise I'll keep myself in check. I won't be any trouble here. I swear." It nearly tore her to shreds on the inside having to pretend it was all her fault. She was only reinforcing everyone's views of her.

"If you ever have any trouble, anything at all, you just come to my office, okay?" Mrs. Flynn gave a genuine smile and for the briefest of moments Alyssa could act like the whole conversation had never happened.

"I will. Thanks." The counselor handed her a paper with her schedule printed on it before leaving.

"I want you to know that you're always welcome to come speak to me on any matters as well. If you get into any trouble with other students, don't hesitate to speak with either of us. Understand?"

"Yes, Mr. Green. Thank you." Alyssa was already at the door.

"Hope you enjoy your first day," he said with a smile as she closed the door behind her.

Alyssa sighed in relief now that she was safely out of the office. Any longer in there and she might have suffocated. Both the principal's and the counselor's fake friendliness was beginning to weigh down on her to the point where she felt like she would stop breathing. No matter how hard they tried she could still see through the façade with ease. They didn't want her there. Anyone with a record like hers would be seen as a liability. Maybe that was why her father wouldn't allow her to attend Ashley's school. Even if that were true it was still unfair in her eyes. Her cousin was the closest thing to a friend she had. Where everyone else saw her as some demonized monster, Ashley seemed to genuinely care. Sure, she was still somewhat cautious about Bates, but other than that Alyssa's magnetism to the weird and unnatural never seemed to really bother her. Uncle Philip and Aunt Katherine were a little wary around her, but they never seemed to hate her or anything. At least she had someone she could hang out with without too many fears. Alyssa usually had to be careful about who she spoke to because she was constantly worried that Bates may attack them. With Ashley though, he didn't seem to really care. At her previous schools there were even some students that he didn't seem to want to kill. It was a pain basically having him pick and choose who she could hang out with or speak to, but it was better than nothing she supposed.

Alyssa, having finally reached her first class and only vaguely aware of the walk to it, pulled herself out of her depressing thoughts. It wouldn't do for her to walk in while spacing out like that. Everyone would think she was even more of a freak. When she walked in, the teacher, a middle-aged woman who wore round glasses and had her raven hair done up in a bun, merely glanced at her before telling her where her seat was. It was in the farthest back corner of the classroom, slightly pushed away from the rest. She didn't even bother to question it.

About five minutes of painful silence later the other students began filing in. They all took their seats without a word but made sure to glare at her before doing so. This day was getting worse by the second. Once everyone was settled in the teacher began the lesson. She was quickly writing notes on the board and the class was quickly copying them into their notebooks. Alyssa had to squint ever so slightly to make out what she was writing. Math equations were rapidly taking over the board's once clean space, and her voice clearly wasn't stopping for breaths anytime soon. This was the first major warning bell for her. The teacher hadn't even taken the time to tell the class of her arrival, explain what was going on to her, or even tell her her name. So far all this school was doing was revealing its hidden animosity towards her.

"Excuse me." Alyssa sat with her hand raised and waited patiently for the teacher to finish huffing and look at her.

"Yes?" she asked, hardly polite.

"Um, I'm new so I'm not really up to date with the lesson. I was wondering... if you could maybe explain what's going on to me?" Her nerve was slowly dying as she scanned the room of annoyed people glaring at her.

"Come speak with me after school," was all she received before the teacher returned to writing and rambling. Alyssa bit back a sigh. It was no surprise to her that this would happen but it still hurt. A balled up piece of paper suddenly found itself on her desk. Already used to the routine she opened it and wasn't shocked-or pleased-to see the word 'DIE' written in all caps with bright red ink. She crumpled it up and pretended not to notice the snickers and sneers surrounding her.

The rest of her day went like this. People made fun of her, called her names, and a few times she had to fight off Bates which, as usual, only made it worse. When the day was finally over she trudged home alone, knowing that it'd be a while before she could vent about her day to someone. Her dad had gone on yet another one of his 'business trips' and probably wasn't returning for another week or so. She didn't expect that to be how long she lasted at this new school.

"Hey freak!" Someone was calling her, but she ignored it. If she got involved Bates, who'd been increasingly difficult to control lately, would only try to take over. She couldn't risk that happening. Alyssa kept walking, trying to ignore the shouts until a hand latched onto her shoulder. The hand then shoved her roughly into the lockers. One of the handles dug into her back and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out.

The group of four laughed. It was always so easy to torture this one and get away with it. "What's the matter?" a girl asked. Alyssa winced at the sound. Bates was easier on the ears than these people. She mentally cursed herself for thinking that coming to school nearly an hour early would let her avoid any bullying forever.

"Aw, I think she's too scared to talk." A boy, who was either held back a few times or raised next to radioactive waste, towered over the group. He seemed to be the leader to the other two boys standing beside him. They all wore equally grotesque grins and were likely plotting something horrible. She didn't want to stick around long enough to find out.

"I'm just trying to get to class," Alyssa said, silently praying that nothing bad would come out of this. Bates was already making it clear that he had had enough of this. She could feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest and was starting to wonder if they heard it.

"No one's here yet," the girl emphasized. What her words really meant was that they could beat her if they wanted. There was hardly any staff here this early.

"Please. I don't want any trouble." Alyssa was holding her head trying to push back the darkness that was Bates. The other students laughed at this.

"There she goes again," said one of the boys.

"Better watch out, man. She might go psycho on you."

"NO! Just stop it!" They all stopped after her sudden outburst. Then, the tallest perked up.

"Hey, you think if we keep pushing her she'll really lose it?" He said it with enthusiasm on the edges of his voice. Clearly he did not care about the stories or the facts of why you should leave Alyssa Hale alone. Smiling evilly he shoved her back into the lockers again.

"Stop!" Alyssa cried. Bates was almost impossible to hold back now. Her safety was in danger and he wasn't taking it.

"Hey. What's this?" The girl had noticed the string to her amulet hanging out of her pocket. She snatched it before she even had time to think. "What kind of ugly thing is this?" She scrunched up her face until Alyssa tried to get it from her. She then grinned while tossing it to the nearest kid. "Looks important. You want it back?" she taunted.

"Give that back! If you don't-"

"You'll flip out? What are you gonna do? Attack us? Ha! Like you're even scary. Right guys?" They all started to laugh, not noticing how Alyssa's head suddenly dropped.

"I heard about a time she lost this thing and went ballistic," the girl said, only now starting to regret her actions.

"Please. That's just a rumor. What's a girl her size gonna do? Kill us?" The tall boy then noticed Alyssa glaring hatefully at him. Before he could say even one word her leg shot out and connected with his groin. He instantly dropped to the ground.

 **"Actually, shithead,"** said a voice that was definitely not Alyssa's. **"That's exactly what I'm gonna do."** She suddenly lunged at the boy nearest and broke his arm before slamming his head into the wall with such force that he was knocked out instantly. The other three didn't even have time to run.

Ms. Mary, who had been preparing the class's next math lesson, came running into the halls when she heard screaming. She had to adjust her glasses just to make sure she was seeing everything right. There was Alyssa Hale, standing before a small heap of students with her hands on her hips and nodding her head lightly. When she heard heels clicking she turned around to face her.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!" she screeched. This was unforgivable! These students were lying brutally beaten in the middle of the hall and-was that blood?! One of them had a couple of pencils lodged where they shouldn't be while the rest had limbs bent at disturbing angles and Ms. Mary, despite all of her anger, took a step back.

 **"What's the matter? Did you really think I'd let them get away with this? They had it coming. And so do you!"** She was so stunned by the demonic voice emitting from the girl that she had no time to react.

Allen Hale exhaled sharply upon walking in the front door. It had been a painfully long week but at least he was certain that his plans were still in motion. Now he could sit back and relax for a short while. "Alyssa," he called, expecting to see her emerge from her room. He became slightly worried when he got no answer. He tried to reason that maybe she was asleep, tired from a long day at school and homework. He knocked once and waited a moment before opening the door only to discover that she wasn't there. Now he was really worried. Her room or the small kitchen would've been the only places she would have been. It was too late for her to still be out. Something must have happened. Maybe Bates took over and-

It was then he noticed the red light on the receiver flashing. Someone had left a voicemail. Hoping it was Alyssa saying she was at some friend's house he played the message.

 _"Allen Hale, this is Jeff Coleman of the police department..."_ Allen paled as the message continued, saying that his beloved Alyssa had been arrested for three counts of murder, but because of her mental instability they were going to place her into a mental institute. There were several other messages of the same degree; they had been trying to get in touch with him for a while. Stopping the recordings' torment he rushed back out the door, feeling even worse than when he had come in. Maybe this was some mistake, a sick joke. Maybe he could get her out of this. Anything, he'd do _anything_ to fix it. Somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear the horrid laughter of George Maxwell and cursed the man despite knowing that he had nothing to do with it. It was still his fault though; he was the reason behind Bates's existence wasn't he? If it wasn't for his family's damn curse then none of this would be happening.

Allen had to stop himself there. If it weren't for that curse or Maxwell's paranoia then he'd never have adopted Alyssa in the first place. He still refused to call the curse real though. Even with all the obvious signs he wouldn't acknowledge it. Believing in it was going to Maxwell's downfall, while denying it was going to be Hale's.

* * *

 **Another long chapter finished. I wasn't originally planning on this one, but I wanted to give Alyssa a little more backstory before I started on the game's events. I think it came out pretty well, hope you like it!**


	8. Chapter 8

George Maxwell smiled triumphantly as he watched the patient's form slowly raise itself up on the table. The other scientists in the room were horrified, but he was absolutely ecstatic. After years of long and painfully difficult research, he'd finally succeeded. He'd finally accomplished one of his major life goals.

The former patient, with its lifeless eyes and pale skin turned green, began to hobble its way over to where Maxwell and the others were standing. The four scientists backed away fearfully, but Maxwell merely chuckled before transitioning into full-blown laughter as the creature stalked towards him. It wasn't until it was a few feet away and preparing to lunge that he pulled out a pistol and made a mess of its parasitic brain. While the splatter of blood and yellowish ooze would've made others sick, it did nothing but further amuse the deranged man and as a result he began laughing even harder at whatever it was he found so funny. The remaining scientists in the room tried their best to follow along, but staring at the multiple bodies on the floor-some patients, some _colleagues,_ and some just horribly dismembered from Maxwell's frustration-left them feeling too sick to even muster a cough. One of them doubled over and vomited on the spot.

Maxwell, having stopped his wild laughter, turned to look at the man heaving his guts out. Still keeping the same wicked, inhuman smile on his face, he took a few steps toward him while avoiding the contents of his stomach. "What's wrong?" he asked, neither angry nor happy with the man across from him.

Having nothing left to choke out, the scientist raised his head to look at Maxwell but did not straighten up. The others said nothing in the hopes that they would stay uninvolved. "This-this is..." He so desperately wanted his voice to cooperate so that he could speak his mind firmly, but after vomiting and now looking the terrifying man in the eyes, he wasn't sure he could keep up the nerve. It was so much easier when he imagined it.

"This is what, Johnson?" Maxwell's voice held no anger-an amazing feat for him-but it did hold something much more sinister. "Are you trying to tell me that there's something wrong with what we're doing here?"

"Yes," Dr. Johnson choked out. Deep in the pit of his stomach he knew it was perhaps the worst mistake he could make, but he could take no more. He'd assisted this demonic man in torturing people for reasons he did not want to imagine for far too long. It was time for him to say something. Even if it meant his death, he'd rest better knowing he'd finally broken his silence.

Maxwell raised a brow at the man slowly recovering in front of him. What was he thinking? By saying that was he simply supposed to stop everything and turn himself in? How amusing. He supposed he could go visit Allen Hale and apologize on the way to prison too. "And?" he offered, knowing full well that it would be the man's breaking point.

It was. Dr. Johnson, now fully recovered from his previous state of sickness, lunged at Maxwell hoping to tackle him to the ground. The other man hadn't expected it at all and was knocked backwards before stumbling over the headless body soon after. The two of them fell to the ground and Maxwell's gun skittered across the floor out of their reach. Johnson was straddling Maxwell, trying his best to strangle him. However, the other man had no intentions of letting that happen and proceeded to wrap his own hands around the scientist's neck with such strength that it couldn't possibly have been human. Johnson immediately stopped trying to choke Maxwell and instead brought his hands up to claw at the ones rapidly crushing his windpipe. A sudden flash of movement and pain disoriented him and he blacked out for a few brief moments. When he regained his senses he found himself lying on his back with an enraged Maxwell kneeling over him, one arm pulled back, ready to strike.

One of the remaining scientists, Dr. Louis, finally snapped out of his shocked daze and rushed over to grab Maxwell's arm before it could hit its target. "Sir! Maybe you shouldn't-"

"GET OFF ME, YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT!" he roared. The last two scientists in the room chickened out and fled. Maxwell had never been this furious before and they weren't going to stick around to see what happened.

"Wait! Please!" Maxwell glared at him for a moment before turning his murderous gaze back to Johnson. Then, standing ever so slowly, he turned himself fully to face the man who'd intervened.

"Why?" he asked, voice shaking with rage. He looked ready to kill both of them in an instant. When he wasn't given an answer as quickly as he wanted he grabbed the scientist by the collar and threw him down next to the other. "You want me to stop?" he said with a sneer. "Then make me!" He brought his foot down hard on Johnson's neck. "Go on. Do something!" He began grinding his heel into his head. He was screaming in pain, but it only motivated Maxwell more.

Dr. Louis watched helplessly as his colleague was ruthlessly tortured. He backed himself away on all fours while Maxwell just laughed. Eventually his hand brushed something cold and he snatched it back before seeing that it was a gun, Maxwell's pistol which was discarded during the previous scuffle. Shaking lightly, he looked at the spectacle before him. Johnson's skull was near its shattering point and Maxwell was grinning manically at the prospect. Taking a deep breath to steady himself and to make swallowing the lump in his throat a little easier, he picked up the weapon. It felt cold in his hands and the fact of simply touching it sent shivers up and down his spine, but he tightened his grip nonetheless. He aimed it towards the raven-haired man's head. Just as said man saw him in his peripheral, he fired.

Time itself seemed to have stopped. After the deafening bang, silence filled the room. Not even Johnson's screams sounded anymore, which meant he was either dead or too stunned to say anything. As he lowered the gun, Louis cracked open an eye, completely unaware of when he had even shut them. Both eyes shot open upon seeing the subject of their closure. Maxwell was still standing, foot resting on Johnson's head, only now there was a trail of blood running from just above his ear down the side of his face, to his neck and under his shirt collar. His eyes narrowed at the man still holding the gun.

"Damn," Louis gasped. He'd only missed by a hair. If he had just shot a second sooner then Maxwell wouldn't have seen him and turned as he fired. Said man emitted a quiet growl from the back of his throat and lifted his foot off the scientist to begin making his way towards the one who shot him.

"Go ahead and try again," he said as the gun was pointed back at him. "However, I do recommend that you don't miss again." He saw Louis falter for a moment and took the opportunity to rush forward and swat the gun out of his hands. He then broke his wrist as though it were nothing. Louis yelped and looked over at Johnson's form with the hope that perhaps he'd recovered. He hadn't moved an inch, so the worst was assumed. A kick to the face reminded him to stay more alert. Hearing footsteps move away he forced an eye open and saw Maxwell standing over one of the tables. He held a syringe full of his Cerebral Toxin and inspected it before tucking it into his coat pocket. He then filled another before walking back over to Louis, who was still lying on the ground.

Maxwell crouched down in front of him. "Get up," he said, smiling evilly. "You've got an epidemic to spread." With that, he jabbed the needle into his arm. Dr. Louis cried out but he ignored it as he made his way to the door. As he stepped into the hall he noticed several other scientists and guards watching him. He chuckled as he strode past, amused at how they cautiously stepped back. No one said a word, not even after Maxwell was well out of the building. It was only after they heard sounds coming from the room he'd emerged from that they moved.

Dr. Louis groaned as he felt the stinging sensation spread. He could feel the toxin making its way through his blood stream, it was only a matter of time before it took over completely. Thinking back on it all, he knew he deserved it. This was what he had put others through and worse, so he had no right to come out of it unscathed. Taking what little time he had left, he apologized to everyone and everything he'd ever caused pain to. The patients, his co-workers, his friends, and his family. He made a special mention to Dr. Johnson, whose battered form still lay before him. He could never ask for forgiveness, he didn't deserve it, but he wanted to at least let them know in some way that he was sorry. For everything.

"Argh!" His head began pounding with a horrible pain, and he knew that it was over. It was becoming impossible to control his thoughts and he could feel a much darker urge overtaking him. The tempting urge to just go... kill something. Anything. His hands twitched at the thought of ripping something apart. The thirst for blood was getting stronger by the second and he soon found himself staring at the late Dr. Johnson as though he were some kind of lifeline. He wanted more than anything to stop himself, but he was no longer in control. The parasite had taken over and he was unable to resist any and all desires. He wasn't even sure why it mattered anymore. He felt his memories fade out and suddenly he no longer remembered why he'd been so hesitant in the first place.

The guards slammed the door open first, standing with batons at the ready. What they saw was not something they were expecting. What appeared to be a zombie was hunched over a body, gnawing away. "Don't tell me Maxwell did this!" They were all sickened at the sight. The creature, having heard the guard's shout, stopped mutilating Johnson's body and began staggering towards them.

"Oh shit! Is that-is that Dr. Louis?" One of the scientists from earlier stumbled back out of the room and wasted no time in running away. The others just stood there in numb horror. Was this really what Maxwell was after all those years?

"Everyone calm down," a guard said. "We'll be fine as long as we keep him locked up." He shut the door before the creature made it to them.

"We have to do something now. Someone call the police." The man who said this abruptly decided that he did not want to deal with a zombie and made a move to do it himself. However, he stopped when suddenly faced with a gun.

"No one's calling anyone," a shaky yet cheery voice said.

"Dr. Kaplan? What in the world are you doing? We need to stop this right now."

"That's out of the question. You see, Mr. Maxwell promised me I wouldn't get hurt if I did this."

"And you believed him? You're such a dumbass! Look at what he's done to Louis." The scientist gestured to the room to prove his point. "We'll all be safe if we end this now by calling the police and arresting that monster!" Just then the door swung open to reveal the zombified Dr. Louis. He lunged at the nearest person and bit them in the shoulder, causing them to cry out.

"Agh! I've been infected!" The remaining five leapt away from him. "Help me!" he cried.

"We don't know how! Just-just stay away from us! It won't do any good if we're all turned."

"You see that!" the man nearest to Kaplan said. "If we don't do something-"

"Die!" he screamed. He shot him in the leg so that he dropped down, unable to run. "All of you have to if I'm to make it out of this. You all have to suffer." It was no use talking to him. Whatever Maxwell had done or said turned him into some sort of carbon copy. He was too far gone, bent on nothing but their destruction. The other scientists and guards were forced to watch each other be brutally infected, and those who weren't so unlucky ended up with their necks broken from the monsters' violent nature. With this many already gone, it was only a matter of time before all of Memorial would be overrun.

Kaplan took a step back as the group of former humans turned towards him. Perhaps he was wrong and they were right. What if Maxwell really was lying and using him to forward his plans? He gulped when he thought of how many things could go wrong for him. Not wanting to hang around he turned and fled back to the hospital, hoping that the zombies would remain in the Pharmaceuticals Lab and far away from him.

A man in a bloodied lab coat wearing a creepy red mask was lurking in the shadows. She caught a glimpse of him before he suddenly vanished into the blackness. A sudden bright flash and she found herself standing over the bodies of several students and a teacher. Grinning like a lunatic, she laughed before everything went black again. Another flash and she was in a dimly lit room, crying softly to herself and asking for her father between sobs. She wanted to wipe the tears away but couldn't, not with her arms trapped in a sort of perpetual hug. Eventually this too faded out and just when she was sure that all the lights were gone there was yet another flash in the dark, but this time it wasn't to transition. It happened off to her right, and when she turned to look at it she saw the masked man charging towards her, huge blade ready to strike. Before she could move he brought it down hard, aiming for her skull.

Alyssa Hale jolted awake with a loud gasp. The lady sitting across from her turned and gave her a cross between a slightly annoyed and somewhat disgusted look before turning back to her magazine. The teenage girl ignored this and opted to sigh in relief at the realization that it was nothing more than a dream. Why she had recalled all of her past experiences while on the train-ride home confused her, but she supposed it was just the trauma of it all. Although she wasn't sure why there had been a man in a red Hannya mask, she was positive that she'd never encountered such a thing in her life. Sighing again she figured it best to ignore. It wouldn't do for her to get stressed before she even got to her aunt and uncle's place. She had quite a while before she made it though. The mental institute had let her out a lot later than what they had originally said and, as usual, her father wasn't able to come pick her up. Thanks to that she had to take a train. She wasn't sure of the actual time but looking out the window told her it was probably late afternoon. She wouldn't get to Uncle Philip and Aunt Katherine's house until dark.

 _At least I'll be able to see Michael and Ashley again,_ she thought. _And little Stephanie too._ It'd been so long since she'd seen her cousins or anyone besides her father really. While she'd still have to worry about Bates, her time with her relatives could be taken as a vacation of sorts. It was nice that she wouldn't have to deal with being bullied or attacked for a change. Leaning back in her seat, Alyssa hummed quietly to herself as the train sped on.

Claire had been in the kitchen when she heard the front door open and then slam shut. Not even bothering to turn around she said, "What's with you now, George? Trouble at work?" She had become accustomed to her husband's grouchy behavior whenever things weren't going well at Memorial. She knew that sometimes research didn't always go the way one wanted. What she didn't know was what type of research he was doing there.

She received no response from Maxwell except for his rushing past the room, most likely heading to his personal space that he kept her locked out of. Finding it strange that he hadn't so much as grunted, she followed him. Something had to be wrong. "George," she called. "Is something the matter?"

Maxwell stopped before the door the second she called him. "It's not your business," was all he gave before unlocking the door and going inside.

"What do you mean, 'not my business?'" She grabbed his arm before he could close himself off. "There's something very wrong and I want to know what."

"It isn't your concern, so don't make it." He tried to snatch his am back but she held firm. "Stop it," he said harshly.

"Make me," was her response as she looked him dead in the eyes, challenging him. Lately they'd been having problems, and it was progressively getting worse. It started with small annoyances at petty disagreements and eventually turned into full-blown fights that, despite how bad some of them had been, they couldn't even remember how they'd started. If either had to pick the time they felt it begun, both would choose around the time Maxwell had left in a frantic rush and discovered the empty graves.

"I will ask you again," he growled. "Let go of my arm and mind your own damn business." Each word was spoken with malice that should have made her stop, but she refused to quit her badgering.

"What happens at work, _honey,_ is my business. Just as well as it is yours." She spat each word with enough venom to match Maxwell's. Both of them continued to glare at the other until finally Maxwell attempted to free his arm again. When Claire still wouldn't let go he seized the arm that was holding his with his free hand and pried it off. She made a small sound at the ferocity of it, surprised at his violence.

 _ **SLAM!**_

She was left alone with the wood door. She suddenly felt angry. Angrier than she'd ever felt these past eight years, or in her whole life. Something horrid overtook her then, and it was not something she wanted to stop. "Dammit George! Open this door now, you bastard!" She began pounding on its surface and trying to pull it open.

Inside, Maxwell was staring at the mask in his hands. When he had bought it slipped his mind, but he knew he'd needed it. Now that his toxin was finished and most of Memorial was probably nothing but mindless zombies by now, George Maxwell had to disappear. After all, he couldn't be held accountable for this. Not to mention that his secret work wasn't quite complete. Sure, he'd put the ball in motion and soon everyone would be suffering horribly for the rest of their lives, but there were those who deserved an even worse fate. One that could only be administered by himself. People like Allen Hale had to pay a much higher price than simply being turned into mindless heaps of flesh. This was his final step and it had to be done under a new persona. It had to be kept secret. Besides, what fun would it be if everyone immediately knew that he was the mastermind behind it all?

Placing the mask on his face he turned to the door and his wife's angered shouts. Something pulled and tugged inside him and he felt obligated to go with it. He casually opened the door.

"Wha-George? What in the world-"

"It's because everyone must die," he said gruffly, "and suffer forever." Claire looked too shocked to respond.

"What are you talking about?" she asked once she recomposed herself. "What's with that mask?"

"I just told you." She couldn't see it, but he was grinning madly.

"Enough with these bullshit games of yours, George! What is going on here?!"

"I'm expressing my identity," he said cheerfully, taking her by the shoulders and bringing her face to his. "See? Red is my favorite color!" With that he brought his hands around her throat and began to squeeze.

"George..." she gagged. Something shifted within her as well and she began clawing at his face, trying to tear off the mask and get him in the eyes. It didn't take long for Maxwell to win that struggle. Having dropped her, he readjusted the mask and stepped around her body. Although no one would guess, and he'd soon forget himself, he'd actually chosen the red mask because it represented his envy of everyone else's happiness. Something that since he could not have, had to be destroyed.

He checked his coat pocket to make sure that the syringe was still intact before walking out the door. Before he could go after Hale, he had to take care of Tate. The man would never know what hit him. Actually, no. He'd have a pretty good idea.

Ashley Tate said goodbye to her friends as she started the walk home. Normally she'd have stayed with them a bit longer, gone to get ice cream or something, but today she wanted to be home a little earlier than usual. Her cousin Alyssa was coming over to stay for a bit so she wanted to have time to make a little surprise for her. She'd heard the news of her arrest and admission into a mental institute the day after and felt bad for her. Okay, so she did murder a bunch of students and a teacher, but still. It wasn't her fault. They were probably bullying her and it was Bates who'd done it. She knew that Alyssa would never do such a horrible thing in her life. She was the only one who believed that the alter ego was more than just a 'split personality' and instead some kind of malevolent being. That was the only way it made any sense.

Ashley looked at her watch. It was only four thirty. She'd have plenty of time to plan something for Alyssa. She continued on at her pace while thinking of what to do for the surprise. She heard a noise but ignored it as she absently noted the lack of life, although it wasn't a surprise. Most of the people in her neighborhood were older and didn't have any kids around, so it was always this empty. Another scraping sound caught her attention and she turned around. Behind her there was nothing except for rustling trees and empty streets. Shrugging, she continued on.

Then she heard it. Footsteps. Someone was following her. She whirled around that instant and saw a tall figure composed of white, black, and red behind her. All she could really focus on was the contorted face of the mask though. Screw calling out to them to see what they wanted, she broke into a run. As her feet hit the pavement she still heard the footsteps behind her, only now they were matching her pace. No. They were gaining. Whoever it was, they were relentless. She started to panic as they got closer and closer. Images of her being kidnapped or killed filled her mind and tears began to form, blurring her vision. No. Now was not the time for that. She kept pushing herself forward and soon she was almost there. Once she got home she'd be safe.

Suddenly something hit her sharply between the shoulder blades and she stumbled and fell. Her pursuer had caught up to her. "Get away!" she cried. When she turned over she saw them in full. A man in all black with a white lab coat and a red Hannya mask was towering above her. "Who are you?"

Saying nothing, Maxwell pinned her down with one hand on her throat while the other brandished the syringe from his pocket. "NO!" Ashley screamed. She didn't know who or what this man was and certainly didn't want to find out what was in that needle. She thrashed about trying to break free, or at the very least knock the terrifying object out of his hands, but to no avail. She soon found it plunged deep within her upper arm and she let out a painful shriek. Once the contents were emptied into her veins he stood and let her be.

"Everyone must die," was all he said before walking away.

"Mom, Dad," she cried. "It hurts." She was so close to home and yet she couldn't bring herself to move. The burning sensation was too painful and it hurt just to think. "No," she told herself. She wanted to get home, she had to. She was going to make it home, she told herself.

Very slowly she brought herself to her knees. She was going to get home.

She was going to see her parents and siblings.

They were going to help her.

She got one leg up so far.

She was going to get home.

She was going to see her parents and siblings.

They were going to help her.

She'd managed to stand.

She was going to get home.

She was going to... to... What was she going there for?

Her family. She was going home for them. She was going to get home and... and... kill them... her family...

They were going to hate her.

Little Stephanie Tate stared intently at the statue as though it would give her the answers to the universe. She'd found it in the den when she was looking for some of her old toys and it fascinated her. The second she'd brushed its cold surface, she knew she had to have it. Something about the way it looked, the way it reflected the light on its twisted abnormal surface was mesmerizing. She wondered why her father had it so deeply hidden. Perhaps he did not like it. Or maybe he had forgotten about it. Or, quite possibly, it was a gift for her when she reached her eighth birthday. Whatever the reason, she was glad she found it. It gave her a free feeling. Like she no longer had to act like the child she was. No, was no longer. The second she touched the statue, she felt something change within her. Her mind was cleared of all its childish clutter and filled with something much more... adult. No longer was she thinking about a new game to play or having fun with her family. Now she was thinking about what it might be like if they were in pain. Pain that was caused by her. Would they scream in agony and beg her to stop? Or would they become enraged and fight her? She was curious. Just the thought made her giggle in excitement.

Looking around her room she saw nothing that would really hurt them. So she decided to find something that could. A knife, perhaps. Her mother hated the act of her simply asking if she'd like some help preparing dinner, just imagine how she'd react once she saw her sweet little Stephanie charging at her with one of the sharp silver weapons. Yes. A knife, she decided, would be perfect, so she set about to find one. And then when Ashley and Alyssa came the fun would truly begin.

* * *

 **A/N: Wow. This got super dark, super fast. I was kind of going for that though because I wanted to show how everything's hitting the fan all at once. The part with Maxwell and his wife I feel got a little lame, but I didn't want to leave a gaping plot hole of 'whatever happened to her?' even if she was only mentioned once before. I also wanted to play on what I wrote in their earlier chapter to make the suggestion that she was also affected by the same bacteria Allen had for Maxwell through her contact with him. Hopefully there aren't any other plot holes I've missed.**

 **As for the overall chapter, I think it came out pretty well, my biggest concern though is if it all makes sense. It skips around A LOT, but I tried to keep it going in a clear straight line: Maxwell starts the outbreak, leaves, then Alyssa's on her way to Philip's, Maxwell's got that creepy mask of his and just started his killing spree, infected Ashley (because he apparently did stalk her and do that, according to the drama CD, and it does make sense), Stephanie finds the statue. The only thing I'm slightly annoyed I left out is Allen, although I already know how to add him in the next chapter as well as what he's been up to (although by now I'm sure it's probably obvious where he's likely to be) so it should be fine. The part where the zombies started taking over I made ever-so-slightly comedic when it came to their reactions because I just CANNOT take the zombie thing seriously. It would've made so much more sense if they weren't there. Why even put that in in the first place? I'm not sure why Maxwell actually came up with that in the game, but regardless of whether or not he was sane at the time it's still kinda stupid. I get why it would work for his goals but still, who puts that much effort into research for zombies? If you're gonna be a mad scientist then have some real goals. Take over the world or something, don't fill it with a bunch of no-brains. *yes, pun intended* It also makes it a little harder to write this when I have to add that in.**

 **Anyway, I hope I captured the mood right, especially with the people's thoughts after they're infected and Maxwell's insanity, and hopefully you didn't die of boredom reading all this. Also, sorry about the pun. I know it's awful, but some friends just rapid-fired a whole bunch of bad puns at me recently and I guess it rubbed off.**


End file.
